Muran 1 - Every Drop Counts


Every Drop Counts



Sathya has always been one of my most unforgettable cousins—outspoken, filterless, and impossible to place as innocent or mischievous. We’re the same age, but when we first met as kids, I didn’t know how to deal with her. Years later, life took us in different ways: she studied nursing and worked in the Gulf, while I did engineering and was working as a software developer in Chennai.

One vacation she was flying through Chennai, and I went to pick her up at the airport. On the drive back we stopped for juice. Sathya was bubbling over with stories from abroad—her patients, her adventures, her flights. At one point she grinned and said, “You can only see flights from the ground. I’m the one who actually flies.” I laughed, amused by how seriously she meant it.

Just then our juice arrived. I drained mine in one go and reached for my wallet when I noticed Sathya staring at me, shocked.

“You finished it?” she asked.

 “Yes…?”

 “Till the last drop?”

 “Of course. Why not?”

 She gasped. “Pavi! Because of you, I haven’t finished a juice in ten years!”

I froze. “Wait, what did I do?”





She reminded me of a day a decade earlier, when Mama had taken us shopping. We stopped for juice, and while she finished hers quickly, I was slowly sipping. 

“How long will you drink?” Sathya asked.

 “What's the rush, let’s go”

 “But u still dint finish it?”

 “Finishing it all isn’t stylish. Leaving some behind looks cooler.”

Apparently, I was showing off back then—maybe because I was from a town and she was from a village. I never thought of myself as the show-off, but that day, I guess I was.

I burst out laughing. “Sathya, that was silly of me! We’re grown up now, earning our own money. Why waste even a drop just to look cool?”

She shook her head, half-annoyed, half-amused at how seriously she had lived by my high school nonsense.

Years later, when we met again as mothers, we ordered juice once more. This time, before she could tease me, I confessed: “If it’s too sweet or too cold, I won't finish it anymore. Health first.” She laughed so hard the shopkeeper stared.

That’s Sathya—able to turn a glass of juice into a story we’ll laugh about for a lifetime. And now, every time I drink juice, I think about her.

Should i have written it in tamil for more of a personal touch?  I have 9 more to come..

Constructive Feedback Welcome.

Picture courtesy: Gemini AI

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Muran 2 - Light and Shadow

Image
Light and Shadow      When I was between two and four years old, my chithi Santhi raised me. She wasn’t married yet, and my mother already had my elder brother to care for, so I was left with her. My father used to tease me, saying, “Chithi valatha la unku apdiye un chithi buddhi” —that I had inherited her ways. I always took it as a compliment, because I adored her.      One of those traits was her fear of the dark, which she unknowingly passed on to me. She would wake me at night just to accompany her to the restroom, and I followed, half-asleep but dutiful. Now, I see the same fear mirrored in my daughter.      Some of my sweetest memories with Chithi are from our visits to the Thirupparamkundram Murugan temple. The temple itself was part light, part shadow, carved into the mountain. We carried a pooja basket filled with lemons, oil, wicks, flowers, kolapodi, and kunkum. She would cut the lemon in half, clean a circle on the stone floor wi...
Read more

Muran -3 Angels don’t always wear wings

Image
    Angels don’t always wear wings    My mother was born into a large, wealthy family with seven siblings, but married into a modest one because she had a hearing and speech impairment. Her father believed a man from a humble background would value her more and not judge her for her condition—and he was right. My father cherished her deeply. Sadly, her dad passed away shortly after their marriage.      My parents moved to Chennai for work, and over the years, their family grew to three children. Yet my mother longed for the comfort of her hometown, believing life would be easier near her family. After much discussion, my parents decided my father would stay in Chennai for work while my mother moved to Madurai with us. He would visit every couple of weeks and eventually join us there.      She was all happy and excited. Little did she know that the very family she trusted would turn her into unpaid help. They didn’t see her as an equ...
Read more

வெகுளாமை - Restraining Anger

Image
  பால்: அறத்துப்பால் அதிகாரம் : வெகுளாமை 1. செல்லிடத்துக் காப்பான் சினங்காப்பான் அல்லிடத்துக் காக்கின்என் காவாக்கா லென் 2. செல்லா இடத்துச் சினந்தீது செல்லிடத்தும் இல்அதனின் தீய பிற. பொருளுரை : 1. உங்களுக்கு கீலே உள்ளவங்க கிட்டே நீங்க ஈஸியா கோவம் படுறீங்களே மேலே இருக்குறவர்ட்ட அப்பிடி கோவப்படமுடியுமா? உண்மையான பக்குவப்பட்டவர் வலியவர் மேலே கோவப்படாதவர் 2.சரி மேலே இர்ருக்குறவர்த்த கோவப்பட்ட என்ன ஆகும் நமக்கே ஆப்பா வந்து முடியும் அது நமக்கு தெரியும்.. பட் வள்ளுவர் என்ன சொல்றர்னா அந்த ஆப்ப விட கீலே இருக்குறவர்ட்ட கோவப்பட்டால் இன்னும் பெரிய ஆப்பு நமக்குத்தான், சமயம் வரப்ப செஞ்சி விட்டுட்டு போயிடுவார் உதாரணம் : நம்ம சிவகுமார் சார் எவ்ளவு பண்பான ஆள் பட் ஒரு முறை கோவாவிட்டு தனக்கு கீழ உள்ள விசிறி கைபேசியை தட்டி விட்டதுனால எவ்ளோ கேலிக்கு உள்ளனர்   3.மறத்தல் வெகுளியை யார்மாட்டும் தீய பிறத்தல் அதனான் வரும். 4.நகையும் உவகையும் கொல்லும் சினத்தின் பகையும் உளவோ பிற. 5.தன்னைத்தான் காக்கின் சினங்காக்க காவாக்கால் தன்னையே கொல்லுஞ் சினம். 6.சினமென்னும் சேர்ந்தாரைக் கொல்லி இனமென்னும் ஏமப் புண...
Read more