The House in Gobichettipalayam

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Sashtiapthapoorthi Function — Me in the front (with eyes closed) My summers were spent in Pudukkottai and Gobichettipalayam — Gobi, as we called it. Away from school and homework, those months were filled with the easy warmth of grandparents, uncles, aunts, and cousins. Summer was the time to let loose. Gobi Home We would take the overnight train from Bangalore to Erode, and from there a bus to Gobichettipalayam — Gobi. We usually arrived early in the morning at Seethammal Colony. My paati, already awake and waiting near the door, would greet us as soon as she heard the metal gate creak open. The smell of freshly brewed filter coffee would drift out from the kitchen. I would run straight into her arms. “Vaada Kannu,” she would say, her eyes beaming with happiness. “Vaada Krishna, Vaa Raji,” she would call out to my parents. Slowly, the rest of the house would stir. People in the living room would wake, and within minutes the house would be buzzing wi...
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Hike or no hike

 It was Sunday evening. As usual, things were not on a level plane. The kids were yelling their throats out as though we had not provided them food for days. They had eaten an apple just about thirty minutes ago. At one stage, I had given up trying to understand these three feet creatures. They had their way with almost everything in our lives. I turned to my wife. 

"What now?", I asked.

"They have not had any outdoor activity. They need to exercise, run, and go around. We can't just keep them at home", my wife said with so much confidence that I thought if I had ten percent of that confidence, I would be successful with anything in life. 

I shook my head out of habit before I recomposed myself to actually understand what it was that she said before shaking my head orthogonally in all directions. 

"Next week, we go hiking", I said to everyone and no one in particular.

So, this weekend, I took the kids for a hike in the morning. 

My wife said, "No point in both of us going out with the kids today. Let me finish up some chores. Let me bring some sanity to the place." 

I said, "Sure, no problem."

To be honest, the hike was a lot of fun; Akhil and Sahana really enjoyed the hike. I structured the hike to be at a sweet spot around three or four miles. I thought that would be the optimum limit before the parents start throwing a tantrum (when the kids throw a tantrum, it's just a matter of time before the parents join the humdrum).

After we come back home, with the kids pretty much exhausted, I was expecting them to have a rather subdued rest of the day. But, on the contrary, they were more active than ever. By the end of the day, we were pretty much famished.

Now, my wife with her confidence maxed out says, "I don't think you should have taken them out for a hike. They are exhausted."

Again, I nodded, as though in a trance and this time so exhausted that I didn't even care whether the content had any merit.

Ultimately, this is what everything transpires to. Kids are restless all the time food or no food, hike or no hike, toys or no toys, rain or sunshine, happy or sad, tired or fresh, friends or no friends, school or no school - really like that Prahaladan story where Hiranyakashyapu poses so many conditions to Brahma).

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