“Actually... tell me... (...)”
Says my friend....
Now, he is my friend.. I ought to
know...
His use of “actually” has no
relevance what so ever, to the actuality that we people refer to,
when some of us do use it a bit consciously, and so 'actually' his
use of 'actually' is quite 'inactual' except that it turns out be a
'dos-command' to which his own memory bank gets invoked in a bit
cohesive manner! (Yes, he fumbles for the right word, as I
discovered, when he tried to oblige me , by trying to talk without
the pre-fix of 'actually')... In a way, I also discovered that I
have afforded him the 'trust' that I would never 'actually-mistake'
his 'actually' :)
What he asked once after one of those
'actually/ies' was... “tell me... why the hell did this joint
family system vanish?”
Two things I had to reconcile myself...
He assumes the right to use me like
that hand held gadget to which we can even bark “ok google” and
ask any stupid question... 'A dedicated' gadget! That's what I
turned out to be, when emotions defied logic, and I decided to be
'his' :)
He also assumes (the second bout of
reconciliation-statement), that I ought-to-know answers to all his
queries!
This time, I thought let me try
something easy for him to remember (so that understanding can take
time!)...
I said, “Imagine, if that 'news hour debate' at the
prime time 9 pm, where everybody shouts-out the rest, and barks,
happens around you on a '24 X 7' basis?... May be that's one of
the reasons, why joint-families broke off.. Bickerings too often
over trivial matters!... And I thought at least some of the kids
might feel-initiated into that 'gibberish-meditation'!!
(smiley-icon)...”
“Well, I said, ... I ain't too
sure... but do carry a small glimpse of that amazing coordination
like the modern noise-less engines of the luxury cars, where a lot
happens under the hood, but doesn't let out any noise! A swarm of
ladies used to move around the kitchen, and only when we hear the
'scratching' sound of that half-shell of a cocoanut struggling to
survive the chipping off, when forced on the sharp teeth of that
scraper... that we kids hustle around for a share of the scoop that
the lady hands into each of our eagerly cupped hands.. ... It took
some time (years) for me to 'actually' realise that these ladies, do
the real-meaningful scraping only after our quota (we the kids)..
And some elder would try to solve his morning-puzzle, by listening
keenly to that noise, and trying to guess, the vegetable that
'deserves' the gently-scraped 'flower-petals-like' peels of cocoanut
kernel for its garnishing! (If the scraping is for
further-processing, ... between two stones, pasted, blended by
grinding, the scraping is at a pace of 'get-over-with-it'
quickly)....”
He just gaped at me..
And I was wondering... if he was
trapped inside the scraped cocoanut? Or was he locked inside the
visuals of a traditional dish?.. or was he lucky,
'not-to-be-carried' away, and noticed the 'peak-noise-maker' of a
healthy joint-family?
Somewhere, that 'offer of trust' ...
over a period of time, tends to silence-a-bit, the other person!
(Yes, I can vouch for this, when a 'regular-customer' at my work
place, waits silently and even with a smile, when I look up to clear
my own doubt about 'do I not owe to explain, why I am taking so much
time to attend to him?'
Actually yours,
psn(8th June, 2015)
