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V Gangadhar

Family reunions and all that...

Indians are supposed to be more family-oriented than Westerners. They also love such family get-togethers. Normally, this takes place during weddings. Unfortunately, distances, school examinations, leave problems and railway bookings are irritants which could upset these family gatherings. These days, since family members are spread far and wide, it is not often possible for everyone to be present at family weddings.

Weddings, however, are not ideal occasions for indulging in walks down memory lane. Everyone is busy with the formalities associated with the wedding and there is hardly any time for brothers and sisters to sit together and exchange experiences as well as gossip. A family reunion works much better when it is organised just for the purpose. When family members meet without the distractions of a wedding or a birthday or an anniversary, the experience is more rewarding.

I speak from experience. Over the last few years, our family of four sisters and two brothers has had three family get-togethers. Mind you, because of various family problems, it had not been easy to organise these. But whenever the brothers and sisters met, the experience had been stimulating. As the years rolled by, brothers and sisters who had once been very close go their own way. Despite promises to write to one another regularly, there were long periods of silence.

All the family members together could not be present at marriages. In fact, when I got married, my 'wedding party' consisted of my parents and two sisters. The other three siblings could not make it due to various reasons.

What exactly happened at these meetings? First of all, there was a total absence of routine. We got up when we wanted, ate whatever we liked. Everyone went into the kitchen, cooked something they liked and distributed the food to the others. So, sometimes we had pulao for breakfast, dosai or adai for lunch, ice cream for dinner.

Food was of secondary importance, what really mattered was what we called mandai ooruttal. Translated into English, it means 'rolling the heads', which, in turn, meant some, good, old gossip.

This was a challenging and entertaining job. The events of 10, 20 or 30 years had to be covered in just three or four days. Naturally, we were talking all the time, while eating or lying on our beds. No one really want to sleep before 1 or 2 am. Since my three elder sisters and I grew up at home at the same time, we tended to dominate the conversation. But the younger brother and sister did not mind, they were avid listeners.

Going down the memory lane was such a pleasant experience. In the process, quite a few 'heads rolled', but there was no malice in our discussions. Since the four of us had often attended the same school, our academic experiences were often exchanged. We remembered the substitute teachers who taught us the Cinderella story and interpreted the royal ball quite differently.

He said it was pandhu vilayattal (playing with the ball) and did not mention anything about men and women dancing together. What about the math teacher who was so grim on the day he had his head shaved (a painful experience) that all he did on entering the class was announce a surprise test and look grim for the remaining 45 minutes.

I told them how pleasant it was to study in a convent school for a couple of years when we were just three boys amidst 50 girls. My eldest sister, who was scared of math and never did well in the subject, somehow obtained 60 per cent in her SSC examination. "I still think they must have given me marks which were actually meant for someone else," she laughed.

How wonderful innocent pranks and childhood games sounded at the family reunion! Each one of us recollected the nicknames which we had bestowed on our teachers, friends and neighbours. No disrespect was intended, it was out of pure mischief. We looked through the pages of old family albums. Did we really wear such outrageous clothes? Well, they were in fashion in those days.

We discussed our father who used to decide what we should wear. He had a passion for white and purchased huge bales of superior quality of white cloth, which was then used for my shirts and my sisters's skirts and blouses and, later, sarees. I longed for coloured, full-sleeved shirts, but father would not agree. In fact, the first coloured shirt I had was given to me by my sister after she had married and set up her own home. Unfortunately, it turned out to be so ill-fitting that I could not wear it!

The mandai ooruttal was not always fun and laughter. My eldest sister described the ravages to her home by the 1959 Pune floods. Another sister spoke of the ordeal when her husband nearly lost his legs in an auto accident. Yes, all of us had gone through gut-wrenching experiences in our respective lives. Yet we had managed to survive and retain our sanity.

But we were surprised and happy to discover that, despite the passage of years and occasional lapses in communication, we brothers and sisters had still a lot in common. There had never been a major misunderstanding or quarrel among us possibly because of the fact that father did not leave us any property or money except his goodwill and his general attitude to life.

One more such reunion is being planned during Christmas. All of us are getting old and Father Time does not stop for anyone. But I hope the reunions will go on and on and that all of us will be able to attend.

Illustration: Dominic Xavier