Power-Cut

I,‭ ‬not unlike any other college guy these days,‭ ‬tend to have my laptop perpetually on with two tabs always open in Chrome:‭ ‬Gmail and Facebook.

It has become more of a ritual than habit,‭ ‬like in olden days the first thing one does after entering his/her house is to wash their feet,‭ ‬now as soon as I enter my room,‭ ‬I power on my Laptop and then the browser. With rise of smart phones and Internet,‭ ‬introspection of self in silence has become a rare luxury,‭ ‬at least with the college guys & ‬girls, except after the short lasted time after a bad exam day.

In a life that was going on in aforementioned way,‭ ‬the recent mandatory power cut in Chennai made a lot of difference. It has bought me the time to do things which I'm craving for, yet couldn't even start them. Socializing (in real sense not in fb), being able to finish up four novels in a span of two weeks, and a lot of introspection in silence are some of them.

when I sit today in my room,‭ ‬after the ‘power-cut hour’ has commenced,‭ ‬I retrospect how power-cut did much to me than I ever anticipated.

In my childhood my home being located in a modest town,‭ ‬had to face good number of power-cuts, mostly during summer.

I've amassed a great deal of knowledge and good number of skills during these power-cuts.‭ ‬My father used to tell me about cultures and values, tales,‭ ‬jokes, etc.,‭ ‬and being a very spiritual man much of his lectures during those power-cuts were about Mythology,‭ ‬Gods, etc. and he would make us‭ (‬me and my brother‭) ‬learn Sanskrit verses and Shlokas.‭

‬My brother though not entirely nonchalant was a wee indifferent,‭ ‬for he used to recite all those more out of fear and respect towards my father.‭ ‬On the other hand I used to be very enthusiast,‭ ‬posing few doubts in between.‭ ‬‬My father used to introduce me to elders, with a sense of pride,‭ ‬telling them of my knowledge of Shlokas and verses.

‭‬My father used to make me get the spiritual water for pooja in the morning.‭ ‬It is just normal tap water by all means,‭ ‬but the way you've to procure it makes it sacred‭; ‬bathing early in the morning and wearing a dhoti that has to be worn during pooja and filling the pitcher and placing it in the God’s presence,‭ ‬without touching anything or anyone.‭ ‬If you touch anything,‭ ‬you have to throw out that water and fill again.‭

I used to hate eating in dark and used to grumble a lot about it, until when one day my dad told story of Pandavas. It is said that once while the Pandavas are all set to take their dinner, the lights went off due to heavy wind, and it took some time for kunti to adjust the wick and get back the light, and by that time none have even touched their food excepting Bheem who has finished his dinner in a very orderly fashion. When Arjun asked Bheem about the same, Bheem wondered why would anyone need light to do something they know very well and had been doing for years. This is an example of concentration which later goaded Arjun to try and master blindfolded archery. After this conversation I stopped grumbling about eating in dark if I have to not because I don’t hate it anymore, but because I don't want to be looked upon as someone who lacks concentration.

My mother though a spiritual one,‭ ‬not too much into prayers,‭ ‬she like her father,‭ ‬believes work is worship,‭ ‬and talks a great deal about her work in our house that some times she frustrates everyone when she says how a very mundane thing can be used at her work place and how it can help her in educating her students (‬she does this even when we are on some holiday trip and enjoying while she goes to see how a particular thing there comes in handy to her as teaching aids‭)‬.

Once we were in Shiva temple and were‭ ‬circumambulating a Bilva‭ (‬Bael‭) ‬tree,‭ ‬the revered touch onto which is said to cleanse you of all your sins (I learned this from my father, through a Shloka‭)‬.‭ ‬I,‭ ‬my dad and my brother touched it and altogether made fun of my mother for being ignorant of the custom.‭ ‬She has no one to argue on her side.‭ ‬Then suddenly a Bilva fruit has fallen down grazing my mother’s hand,‭ ‬I at once switched my sides and didn’t loose occasion to argue that “God also believes in work is worship,‭ ‬so even though she has not touched the tree herself,‭ ‬deeply satisfied by her conduct,‭ ‬God made the tree touch her in the form its fruit”.‭ After that I told her better she start accompanying us in our talks during those Power-cuts and get herself some knowledge for I can't always switch sides so swiftly and put a valid argument.

I remember power-cut during a rainy day (our town being a coastal one occasionally prone to cyclone) is pinnacle of enjoyment,‭ ‬the ever pervading darkness,‭ ‬mystic and solid,‭ ‬the silence and fear it brings and more importantly coziness offered by my mother who sits beside her kids,‭ ‬running her hands gently through hairs and nape,‭ till they sleep, ‬so that they are not afraid.

I just always used to wish that power will not be cut from 4:30 PM to 5:00 PM, since I used to be ardent lover of Justice League, which is scheduled at that time.



While I sat in my chair with a vacant expression,‭ ‬retrospecting about the past,‭ ‬after switching of all switches in my room and thus letting myself to be ignorant even after power comes,‭ ‬and thereby buying me some more time,‭ ‬a friend of mine comes to my room,‭ ‬seeing me in a pensive state,‭ ‬he says,‭'‬Hey,‭ ‬power has come‭’‬,‭ ‬and thus ending the train of thought of my 'childhood power-cut days'.