So often life seems to mirror what’s streaming on OTT. To the point where one can’t strike up a conversation without someone chiming in, “Oh, it’s just like XYZ.” Now that I have established that annoying truth, you have ample license to search for similarities in what I am about to narrate.
I got an invitation to ‘a cultural festival celebrating arts, culture, and relationships’, in a village on the outskirts of the city. The host had invited friends who in turn were asked to bring their families and friends. I used the promise of delicious food to entice my youngest aunt, a youthful and energetic 70-something. Her teenage granddaughter who was staying with her while she awaited admission to college was included by default. A cousin living abroad had come to take care of her mother after surgery but soon found that her own patience, as well as her mother’s, was exhausted. She jumped at the idea of an outing, and as NRIs do, had a list of her favourite places to visit. “Let’s meet for breakfast at Brahmin’s and set out.” (Despite its name, this famous eatery in south Bangalore serves everyone, from far and wide.)
Come Saturday morning, the temporary driver hadn’t arrived while aunt had called twice already to confirm the time of our rendezvous. I was on a slow boil as I detest tardiness as a vile sin. I considered my choices: either wait for the driver who was already in my bad books and endure a journey marred by irritation or drive the car myself. I was loathe to do so as self-doubt and lethargy had crept up on me unawares. It was the sight of an older relation’s insistence on remaining housebound that spurred me to drive. If I didn’t watch out, I would soon turn into her! And that’s how, fortified by idli and chutney, four women spanning three generations set off on a road trip of about two hours. The road wound past green fields, with rice paddies and coconut trees, and villages with tidy little homes painted in bright hues. These sights and the conversations that went on without a lull, marked by humour and insights, made my initial worries about the trip evaporate. The venue, Omthara Kala Kuteera, was decked out colourfully; there was sugar cane juice, raw mango, archery and a museum. Aunt and cousin sprung into a spontaneous dance to folk music and when we spotted a famous yesteryear actor, aunt’s joy knew no bounds. She even serenaded him with a song from his hit film.
V, whom I had met over lunch at a friend’s place, came to say hello and he soon became one of our party. We all sat together for lunch and recommended delicacies that should not be missed. It was easy and friendly, with no strings attached. The whole event was symbolic of generosity and open-minded acceptance of people. The entry, the activities and the sumptuous food were complimentary. I wondered aloud why our host KishanAnanthram spent money, time and energy doing this. He said he was fulfilling his parents’ dream to preserve Indian cultural heritage.
His father GK Ananthram, a publisher and editor at India Book House, was the originator of the comic that grew into the widely popular Amar Chitra Katha series. They were picked up for publication in English after he published ten books in Kannada. He went on to publish numerous books on cultural heritage. In the latter part of their lives, Ananthram and his wife Jayalakshmi decided to dedicate their lives to creating two monuments – the Omkareshwara Temple in Hassan dedicated to Lord Shiva and the OmtharaKuteera filled with sculptures and paintings from Indian epics. Kishan moved to Bangalore from the US to focus on keeping Omthara going. It’s a difficult decision to yield to calls of the heart and hearth and uproot yourself. And it requires the family’s support and understanding. His wife BrindalaMallappa runs the company the couple founded in the US. Their two children are starting their own ventures. All four were at Omthara warmly tending to guests. I watched when people came to them with exclamations of happiness and appreciation. I saw the light in the eyes of the youngsters and the glow of satisfaction on Kishan’s face. Brindala asked me how I knew her husband and was amused when I told her that it was our first meeting in real life. The Ananthrams had indeed succeeded in their mission of making it a day of festivity, renewing relationships and building new connections.
PS: After this expedition, I watched the sensitive and sensible Tamil series with three generations of women on a road trip. My aunt and Lakshmi are the same biological age with a spirit that defies age. It brought home how seldom we express affection and made me save the text that she sent after getting home from the outing, “Thank you, I badly needed this outing. It’s nice that my nieces care so much. Love you”.-
Sandhya Mendonca is an author and host of ‘Spotlight with Sandhya’ podcast.