R K Narayan's Malgudi Days...

As a child, the only option I had when it came to watching TV was Doordarshan, India's National Channel. It was funny how the channel limited the scope of programs that could be viewed. 

Anyways thats not my point, I want to talk about something entirely different.

It has been raining in New York for the past couple of days. Accompanied by the downpour is a spectacular show of thunder and lightening. It made me crave for Indian monsoon. The decade old beautiful memory of the way rainwater streamed down the parapets onto my extended arms, while my mom, scared of thunder and lightening, coaxed me to retreat into the safety of the rainproof indoors, flashed in my mind.

To me thunder and lightening were the result of the legendary Tansen singing Raag Deepak to set up flames while his student sang Megha Malhaar Raag to douse the fire with music that burst open heaven's floodgates. There was the music and beat from the showers and the thunder, and the beautiful scent from the soil, as it gorged down rainwater, which overwhelmed one's senses.

All this coupled with a warm cup of cardamom - flavored tea, some pakoras or bhajjis, and a book to read. Thats how R K Narayan's Malgudi Days came to mind. 

Malgudi Days was one of the serials that I liked on DD. Swami or "Chami" as his grandma used to call the character, was played by Manjunath, who immortalized this little boy from Malgudi and etched him among the beautiful memories I have of my childhood.

To me Malgudi was a place where kids had fun, where they could run around and play, they were scared as I was of my educators,  but in the end everything was for good. 

It also reminded me of Indian writing in English. I love the concept, especially when I see a beautifully written regional story draped in a foreign language with a beauty and fluorescence that embraces you with it's every word. I remember reading short stories by M T Vasudevan Nair,Uroob and Thoppil Muhammad Basheer in Malayalam, though it was not my forte. I took days to read and understand the stories, the purpose was to live amongst the many colors in the pictures they painted and the characters they sketched. Sadly when I started working I grew impatient and tried reading translations instead, thats how I added Kuttyedathi to my collection. 

The breeze that preceded the showers blew life into that page in memory where I used to listen to the rhythm of the rain falling outside as I grabbed a book and retreated into the colorful world painted by my favorite Indian authors. There amidst rain drops, Megha Malhaar, fresh green shades, colorful memories and refreshing scents was a calm that no materialism could shake.

I love New York and it's many hues, but the rains in New York remind me of a mystical Malgudi somewhere. Guess the child inside wants to escape and stay unbound even amidst concrete strictures.