Of the 63 arts that I learned and how my mom tricked me into this...

I was born a boy. I assure you. And then they realized they needed some help in the house hold. This need for household help was the reason why I know so many un-male things.

Well, when I used to be a young lad, I used to be very naughty (I know it falls flat when I say it like that but the point of this blog is my mom and not me). Since it is mostly useless asking my dad for anything because he would immediately ask me to do "loud reading" of "The Hindu" if I am bored.

So, "mummy mummy, enakku bore adikudhu" I would go to her. One day, when I did that, she had a meal to cook for me, because soon I would go her and say "mummy mummy enakku pasikudhu"... anyway, she showed me an interesting thing. She took an appalam, and showed it over the flame, and the appalam got cooked right in front of my eyes, and gave it to me to eat. Well, I was not really hungry and I was bored now, so I asked her for another of that and this time I wanted to do it myself... This is how that terrible accident happened! My mom taught me how to cook! It has been wonderful though, I immediately became the "sutta appalam expert" of the house, and could do it with super ease.

Then slowly I graduated to cutting veggies for her, and then grating cocunut, making coffee and it was eternity before she let me "cook" my own "potato curry". Man did I suck at that at first.

I cannot blame my mom for everything. Learning to stitch was entirely my fault. Well then, can you keep a complex mechanical contraption complete with turning wheels and gears and everything and expect a kid to not touch it? We had a brand new "Usha sewing machine" at home and a handkerchief was the first dress that I stitched for myself. :-) I stiched a pillow cover and restitched/adjusted stuff for the people of the household, but then my mom was also too eager to try it, and she started to use it, unfortunately completely arresting the weaving capabilities of yours truly.

By this time my mom had realized that I was attracted to mechanical devices and so when it was the next pongal, is when the true evil came out of my mom. She called me to the kitchen and then talking about something nonsensical topic, put a small kolam with the rice flour. Man was I stunned by the design she just with her hand and with that flour-roller. Mrs. Evil then send, "your hands are too tiny, you will be able to do it easily when you are grown up", not once did I think if I had any promise of a career in drawing kolams in my "grown up" years and actually took offence at that. In the next few days the whole house would have eloborate kolams drawn on every room, and I became the official for that as well.

I will continue on how I was tricked into becoming an expert in assembling DIY furniture, hanging a ceiling fans, fixing blown fuses, bulbs, fixing plumbing problems, bicycle problems, carburator problems. Actually coming to think about it, my dad might also have been a co-conspirator!

But my mom is solely to be blamed for teaching me music! God! why do I know that? Why cannot I be ignorant like normal people?