'Thatha's Ruby...'

It was that time of the day when the cattle lazed back to their sheds after a good day of grazing. Smoke spiraled off the chimneys as the preparations for the evening feast was in full flow. The once tar roads filled with huge potholes had totally been transformed into newly built concrete ones, a novel remedy for low maintenance in rural areas. The hard working toddy tappers were busy at their work on top of the trees just like the rubber tappers emptying their tapping cups at the bottom. We were attending a reception in the coastal region of Karnataka which was evident with the sweat dripping off our faces. The stage was all set for an eventful evening of tradition, rituals, folklore and stories that Dakshina Kannada district is known for.

Fully aware that I wasn't the first one to board the bus heading towards a wedding, this friend of mine had invited me to his wedding in a rather unique way. He had tactfully made a video covering the splendid view of his village with the gushing waves of the sea kissing it's border every time it decided to retreat and the beautiful fields ready for paddy transplantation as though waiting for the rains to sing grace. In addition to this, he had incorporated snippets from the rustic rural life, topped with his eighty eight year old Thatha inviting me to the wedding with a broad smile on his face and folded hands. A rather unconventional invitation!

Sitting on a washing stone near the huge makeshift kitchen, I noticed the cook with a red gamcha tied firmly on his forehead, prepare the famed spicy chicken curry for the Manglorean specialty, 'Kori rotti'. The coal under the huge kadai was burning hot and the big fat man, with a white baniyan which had clearly seen better days, was roasting a mixture of onions, ginger, garlic and bydagi chillies. He stirred the contents vigorously with a huge wooden spoon as droplets of oil splattered all over the place. As I tried to get a hold of the spices being added, I heard a hacking cough before I felt a hand on my right shoulder. 

Almost as a reflex, I turned towards the direction of the cough and there stood Thatha, clad in a sparkling white silk dhoti and kurtha, sporting a huge Hungarian moustache and a golden framed spectacles, his left hand gripping a walking stick with a lion head handle. 

"Bored?" asked Thatha clearing his throat. I smiled as I struggled to answer the simple question.

"Me too..." he said and laughed loudly as his posture loosened a bit. 

"Seems like you too are not a big fan of crowds, just like me..." He winked as he pulled out a Havana cigar from his leather case as I continued to nod.

"Well, crowds and elaborate customs..." I said, as I continued to measure the salt being added to the kadai.

"Aah... understandable. You are from the so called 'New Generation' and this might feel so obsolete..." said Thatha as he imitated the quotation marks with his extended fingers, the cigar loosely hanging in between them. 

"Its not that, Thatha... just that I feel they have changed over time and we, as the next generation, do not understand their relevance anymore..." I said. 

I was surprised with myself as I wondered if I had actually put words to these emotions I had on this topic.

"Aah... so you are that from that breed of people..." he casually remarked with a sigh before breaking into a laugh.

Naturally, I was uncomfortable with being judged and it was probably evident on my face as well. I would rather bottle up my emotions and be grumpy about it than open up and be stereotyped. That comment justified my surprise and forced me to reconsider my decision to continue the conversation.

"You see my Ruby there?" he pointed at a 1971 Mercedes Benz 280 SE, with all the focus lights reflecting off her shiny black body, enhancing the beauty of the car from all angles. She was in such pristine shape that her ratings would be off the charts in any of the vintage car shows all over India. No wonder she was amongst the main attractions of the function.

I gave a disinterested look towards the car with an impassive face. It felt like the old man was trying to make a point but me, at the receiving end, had already walled up... And hence, the poker face...! 

"I have driven her for thousands of miles. Not any more..."he shrugged as I gave an understanding nod. He gave me a hard knock on my head before continuing, "No...not the age smarty... just that her suspension doesn't suit me any more." he said as I gave a sheepish smile, still getting to terms with the unexpected thrust. 

"40 odd years I have had her now and dare I say, she has stood the test of time. A cigar in my right hand and with the wind from the open window blowing all over my face as I cruised along these roads at great speeds... those were the days!" he continued.

I stared at him with a blank expression still trying to connect the dots.

"Confused?" He asked, snapping back from his nostalgia and adjusting the big golden bracelet dangling from his right wrist before lighting his cigar again. I was shocked with the question, even a little embarrassed that he had caught me focusing harder on the chicken in the kadai rather than his Ruby. By this time, all the dry masalas had been added and wooden spoon had almost completed a hundred concentric circles inside the pot.

Before I could come up with a reply he carried on, "Thinking if this old man has lost it?" he asked before breaking into a loud laugh. 

"Understand something, son. Customs and traditions are just like my Ruby there. There are times when tradition is all, no questions asked... And then, there are times when there are only questions... " 

I still struggled to fit all the pieces into the puzzle. I was quite uncomfortable and waited for Thatha to elaborate on his points. This conversation was more like a 'go fetch' kind of a situation where Thatha was parting with snippets of his treasured knowledge and waiting for me to fill in the missing pieces. And, it was evident that I was struggling.

"Vintage cars, in general, have always enjoyed the limelight. But, there have been times when their existence have been challenged with the arrival of modern and advanced vehicles. Nothing in that car is as advanced as the one they manufacture today. But still, doesn't she attract all the attention? "he asked pointing at Ruby with his cigar clasped between his two fingers, its tip burning a bright orange.

"Of course she does... Things finally fall to place, whether we like it or not. Its just a matter of time...Trust me, traditions,we like it or not, are here to stay..." He emphasized before preparing to leave.

Was I convinced with the explanation? It was anyone's guess. But by this time, the vibrant aroma of the chicken curry tickled our nostrils. The thought of the succulent meat, mixed with the best of spices, simmering down in a kadai at a distance just a little further than our arms length, took precedence over the need to engage on a debate on 'culture and tradition'.

"How about some authentic kori rotti, our 'traditional' Mangalorean food?" asked Thatha with a smile, before we decided to join the very crowd we had been hiding from all night...