From: vganesan@reed.edu (The Phoenix)
Newsgroups: soc.culture.indian,soc.culture.tamil,alt.culture.kerala,alt.culture.karnataka
Subject: The Prodigal Returns - Memoirs of the Phoenix
Date: 24 Nov 92 04:57:06 GMT
Article-I.D.: reed.1992Nov24.045706.15595
Organization: Reed College, Portland OR


			THE PRODIGAL RETURNS

	"Physican" kept looking at me steadfastedly, and then shouted
"You, sitting in the corner, What was i just saying now?". I looked
around me hoping he had someone else in mind, but alas! fate was not
so kind, he definitely was referring to me. I stood up sheepishly, for
having spent the better half of his disfunctional Physics lecture
lookin at the very admirable curves of the beautiful lady in white who
was sitting ahead of me, I had no notion of what was going on.
"Something very profound, sir" I murmured cheesily to the humour of my
classmates, but "Physican" didn't find it amusing at all. I began to
grimace as he started approaching me, and as his face grew bigger and
bigger, the phone rang, and I broke out of my reverie.

	Got to stop dreaming and actually start sleeping during work
time I reminded myself and picked up the phone drowsily. "Hello, can I
speak to Mr. Gaangsaan please " crooned the voice, "sorry don't know
anybody by that name, could you repeat that again", I replied
back. "Is my G-A-N-E-S-A-N there", she asked again, "speaking" I said
truimphantly over my victory in making her feel foolish for
mispronouncing my name. "Your tickets to India are ready, you can come
and collect them anytime", she said and I heard a click.

	That's right, its time to make my way home again I realized.
Having arrived two years ago on a windy wet day to a place that's been
hell and home for me  all this time, I quivered nervously over the
thought of actually returning back to my true ancestral home,
and meeting all those darn relatives I have tried so hard to run away
from ;-). Darn, I got to now put up with all the "American-returned"
bullshit from my kith and kin apart from the usual"northie-southie,
tamil - malayali, practising brahmin- non practising brahmin"  stuff.
I made a mental note of searching hard for my "poonal"(sacred thread)
which mysteriously dissappeared sometime during the first week of my
arrival, maybe the keg party I attended then had something to do it,
but Oh! well that's another story. I also reminded myself to finish
the half-rack left in the fridge, no point in leaving beer to my
room-mate, not like the guy doesn't outdrink the rugby team anyway.

	Going home definitely sounded exciting, now that I have graduated  
from -a-useless-for-nothing-bugger at home to a-useless-for-nothing-bugger 
-in-the-U.S I guess I could expect atleast some kind of respect. I
would have the chance to once again waltz around R.S Puram in search
of those eluding chudidhars, drop by the "Kanchi Kamakodi" temple over
there and keep my eyes and prayers open for those dutiful paragons of
womenhood who jaunt these places. I could smirk and continue
ruminating on my conflicting moralities as i walk by "Adam and Eve"
tailors, and sip coffee langrously at Annapoorna while watching a
microcosm of Coimbatore life pass by.

	Most people complain Coimbatore is a boring place, I won't
bother to disagree for it is. However if you are imaginative enough
there are quite a number of things one can do to keep themselves
occupied;-). I mean  if you are really desperate you could stand by the
bus stop in front of Nirmala's college, and if you are a born-again
loser whose only acquaintance with the fairer sex ended with the
departure of your wet-nurse there is always Avanashilingam College.
However to me Coimbatore is more than all that.

	Coimbatore is home, a place to fall back on, after all would
my grandma give a whit how I did in my compiler class or will my
sister laugh at my various disastrous passes, okay I will take that
back, knowing my sister it doesn't take much for her to laugh at me.
However the crucial thing to note is the affection that will be in
store for me, after all would not Mr.-I-never-knew-"kicchu" come to
meet me asking about the chances of him making to the promised land on
the malign excuse of me being his classmate, and will i not in the
guise of acting important describe various methods which I have no
idea about since my own admission was due to a mix-up with someone
called ganesev who happenned to be a Russian math genius. And then
would not "Mangalam" maami make her dutiful visit to "sight" me out
for the prospective(read unfortunate) brides of the colony.

	With the whole family tribe in store, waiting to hear my
non-existent exploits and my academic (mis)demeanor, would I not start
spinning a true Coimbatore cotton sari about my position of eminence
and power in this society and my inherent charm over the simple-minded
Americans.

Due to lack of funding the story is being stopped in its tracks, as
soon as NSF makes the grant the story will be continued ;-)

The Phoenix 
 	










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Nondum amabam, et amare amabam quaerebam quid amarem, amans amare.
I loved not yet, yet I loved to love I sought what I might love,
in love with loving.