My family stands by me

Note: There are a million (maybe more) times that my family has stood by me. I'm just recounting one incident which clearly highlighted this fact and double-underlined it, beyond a shadow of a doubt.

There was a stike in my college (CSI CE, Ketti) in February, 2005. I was in my third year, and I was in the thick of things - including being a part of the student committee (selected by the management) shouldering the responsibility of working things out with the management. When third year completed and I was waiting to get back to my final year at college, a bomb dropped. The college sent a letter to my Dad asking him to meet with the Principal regarding my "admission" into college that year. They also spoke to a close family friend in Ooty, and informed him that they should look out for me in other colleges. We were like "Huh, what?!" So Dad, Mum and I made the trip to Ketti. Sam joined us along the way (from Bangalore) and the three of them went in to meet the Principal. When I was called in a bit later, it was not me in the hot seat - our dear Principal was being asked questions by my Dad, my Mum and my brother (with all his knowledge of corporate functioning, he had some choice questions for the Principal). Basically, the Principal was hurt that I had asked him a few honest questions and informed him of a few honest student opinions. Little did he know that calling my family would give him bigger, more questioning versions of me. I'm not gloating or boasting. Simply put, this incident left a strong sense of "My family stands by me!" inside me. My parents didn't scold me (atleast as much as I expected them to) and they did not mention even once that they had been called all the way to college and that this could have been a shameful affair. When you comfortably know that your family is rocking right beside you and with you, everything else in the world seems small. Thanks to Dad, Mum and Sam for being that rocking family. Yaiy!

Of Pickles, Pork and a dash of TLC

I love pork. It's my favourite meat. After I went off to college, my mum's cooking reduced greatly - simply because there was little reason for her to keep cooking stuff when neither son was at home, and my dad used to travel all over the country (and the world). It was with great surprise when I suddenly discovered that my Mum was making "pork pickle" during a holiday stint at home (between 3rd and 4th semesters). There were two-and-a-half bottles of pickle that were sent with me to college when I returned. Wowee. Pork pickle, made by your mum, is one of the best things to have when you're in a college hostel which served terrible food 6 days in a week. Truth be told, I rarely used the pickle as pickle. I doubt my mum would have minded. I still remember the pork pickle, the making of, the carrying of it to Ketti (met a senior chaechi - girl - on the bus and asked her if she ate pork) and the consumption thereafter with friends (and discovering that most Keralites eat pork, sadly). That pinch of TLC was well-timed; it went a long way in making me feel close to home and family. Thanks, Mum.