Opinion | Columnists
Restrictions shouldn't be boundaries
Alagappan, Alagappan's dad, 'anty' Aradhana - Alagappan's ma's pal - and Alagappan's dad's lascar tarry at a cab rank, army barracks, Ambala. Frankly, Alagappan's sad and wary. Canada calls.
- By Kevin Martin, Special to Gulf News
- Published: 22:40 December 20, 2008
Alagappan, Alagappan's dad, 'anty' Aradhana - Alagappan's ma's pal - and Alagappan's dad's lascar tarry at a cab rank, army barracks, Ambala. Frankly, Alagappan's sad and wary. Canada calls. Calgary, Canada. Fancy, flashy, scary Canada.
As far away as bananas, Malayalam and amma's payasam. Alagappan's hanky's lachrymally salty and sad; hands clammy as an asp's back. And awkward, as 'anty' says, 'Ah, Alagappan!' and bawls. Alagappan's dad's a mask. All blank and army brawn. At last, a cab.
'Salaam!' says swarthy cabman, a scrawny, ratty scalawag, as Alagappan's dad barks back, 'A-ha.' Lascar stacks handbags away. 'Anty' Aradhana chants a mantra that appalls Alagappan.
Arra marram mandapam, yarra varram mandalam. Crazy razzmatazz, says Alagappan, as cabman yawns, walks, wracks, carks and....Spat! Black paan! Anyway, 'Anty's' all mantras, claps and ragas (janaka raag, gamaka raag), sarabhandana talas and (gasp!) ghatams (whack, whack cab's aft). 'Array, saab,' says angry cabwallah and stamps at a small sandbar. Alagappan's daddy and cabby bat back angry, adamant aathas and jaaathas, aa-rahas and jaa-rahas, bada rascals and 'Hay Bhagwan!' ('Anty' Aradhana).
'Thanks,' says Alagappan (alas, sarcasm'll crack any cranky lad.) 'Call Jagganath at Calgary,' warns Alagappan's dad. Anyway, Alagappan's away at last.
Cathay skyways lands at Canada, 4.12am, and Alagappan's haggard. Paw-paw, Jaws and Casablanca. Bah! Call Jagganath. Damn. Jagganath's dad, a Sardar (and Harbhajan fan), was Alagappan's dad's batman at Ambala, 1999.
"What? Jaggy?" says Jagganath's pa, nasally, "Jaggy stays at Cassandra's. That's Jaggy's ma. Glad, glad, Al. Ah'll call ya Al, man. Can't say Alaga...pan, anyway."
A Canada dawn, and Alagappan's drama's as flagrant as hazard. Damn hardball, man, Canada. What a masala! 7.14am What? Jaggy? At last! 'Ha-ha Alagappan, badmash rascal!' 'Ha-ha Jags.' Thrash, thwacks, backslaps. 'Ah man, Al, natty pants-fants.' 'Whacky tracks, Jags. Trampy.' 9.22am Al's at Jagganath's snazzy flat. All tantra art and crystal glass. Classy. Jaggy's flat-pard, Sam - gangly Sam, a savvy, swarthy Slav - sax-plays a Santana snatch (Abraxas) and a blast Sam calls 'Catnap at a catwalk party'. Sam halts and says, 'Pass Al da satay and da prawns and da slaw, Jaggy, man.' Alagappan's aghast: satay's salty, prawn's wharfy, slaw's pasty. 'Ah, payasam,' gasps Al, and backs mama's manna any day. Any Ambala day. Days crawl. Anyway, Art Class, January 2008 (D-Day) and - abracadabra - parka-clad Alagappan's happy! Al has pals - Dan, Sally, Marty - and art's a blast, a gas. Draw, draw, draw all day: Dactyls, dwarfs at a handstand, arch gymnasts, a catamaran, a grandma (a.k.a. 'Mascara Nana').
Cyans, blacks, navys and grays. Crazy! Alagappan's happy as jacaranda, Lycra art-bag and canvas at hand. Days pass fast. Many days pass. Alagappan adapts as fast. Dan's a grand pal. A fab ally. Art apart, Alagappan's a part-task washman at a caravan park stall. Half days, half pay and all that. Al's an arty washman, rags Jaggy. 'Handy cash, man,' adds Dan.
At a YMCA bazaar, Alagappan attracts a tall, rangy lad and, tah-dah, has an Xmas card. Back at Jag's flat, Alagappan's card has wayward scrawls and a scratch: 'Amma and papa, all's grand. Calgary's fab. Canada's swanky and jazzy and warm. Am happy, calm. Ataraxy at last. As always, Santa 'Claws'. Ha-ha. Alagappan. Happy Xmas, all.'
Footnote: Today's cuff is not about demonstrating my own skills, if any at all. It's about recognising and respecting limitations, and discovering how when people are suddenly confronted with severely restricting boundaries they still find a way to give 'voice' (Teachers/CEOs take note). The idea owes thanks to Canadian poet Christian Bok's book, Eunoia, where each fictional section uses words containing only one particular vowel. If the above attempt - which any discerning reader will notice uses only the vowel 'A' - inspires those who mistakenly think they're less off for being 'limited', the effort will be well served. Allow me to wish every one of you a happy new year, 2009.
Kevin Martin is a journalist based in Sydney, Australia.
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