Ladoo

I feel quite miserable. A mother of three, in the wrong side of the thirties and I have been absolutely forlorn at having missed the  Rahman concert. We're talking about the - sighing long and deep and often, dropping a tear or two, smiling bravely to my kids, burying my head in to the pillow and unconvincingly agreeing with my mom that 'what happens will happen'.

A little history so that I don't feel like a wuss who can't handle a little curve ball here and there . Balaji and I were living in Seattle in the nineties (No, no, it was not that long ago), starved for Tamizh music and Tamizh food and Tamizh weather. So we did what any reasonable Tamizh person would do. We would drive to Portland for Tamizh food which we convinced ourselves was a 2 hour drive. We would fly to San Francisco every six months to hear lots of Tamizh being spoken.Yeah yeah, I know, Seattle ain't like that anymore.

So, any way, we of course flew down to SFO for an SPB concert, which was fabulous by the way. I was then introduced to the world of live music and how the recorded music no matter what, still lacks an aorta of something special. Meanwhile a small group of techies put together a band that sang Tamizh songs in Seattle and would put up a concert once a year. Great singers, lots of practice and a group with an uncanny sense of picking great songs. I couldn't ask for more. Sitting in a not so dingy hall at the University of Washington, I was in seventh heaven and crushing at every middle aged nerd and his wife in the band. And then another year later, we flew down to SFO for a Rahman concert. We had hit the year 2000 by then. It was in a place called Cow Palace. I grinned to myself thinking that Balaji and I would go to a barn to listen to live music. Rahman was still young (so excuse my expectations).

Cutting things short, lets just say that I was completely blown away. The quality of performers, the blow your mind away huge indoor stage and lighting,the 'can't find a single fault' kinda evening. It was my first experience at Live shows.

Fast forward to 2007 - we moved to Hyderabad and a year later Rahman came to Hyderabad. We bought 1000 Rs tickets, planned for my cook to stay over to watch the girls and sent the driver home early (Dammit). Yes, the parking was a nightmare, the seats were 1.5 kilometers from the stage and we missed almost half the show. The girls meanwhile had a showdown with my 2 yr old hitting my 6 yr old in the face with a big book resulting in plenty of blood from the nose and a very panicked cook. I had decided to have fun and I most certainly tried hard to do so. After searching for the car in the wrong parking lot for an hour in high heals, I decided against it. Just one Tamizh song did not seem worth all the effort.

Fast forward some more to 2015 - Rahman in Coimbatore, Madurai and Chennai. I decided to go. I convinced some Tamizh girl friends to come with me to Coimbatore (the other dates coincided with my Mid terms). They not only agreed but also knew the organiser who gave us free VVIP passes. Later, due to unavoidable circumstances, coupled with exorbitant airfares, they dropped off. Balaji, being the Knight in shining Armor decided to come with me.

Parents in town to watch the kids - check.
Exorbitant flight tickets - check
Free VVIP passes - check
Giddy with excitement and incessant chattering about the upcoming 24 hours away - check.

I missed the flight. Imagine that, I missed the flight. Something that was completely in my control and I couldn't get it right. Yes, the driver came 15 minutes late, Balaji woke up late, but it was all because I couldn't put the fear of God in those two men and there was a huge line at 5am outside the airport. The whole episode was so hard for me to digest since it was handed to me and I let it slip away.

I learnt to drive the Bike that day when I went to my MBA classes with my tail tucked between by legs. No amount of cuddling with my kids reduced the disappointed. Yes, I have not had too many disappointments with me being the sole cause. Things beyond my control, I have no problem dealing with. Things in my control, I've always kept it that way.

A year now and I am finally able to write about it (rather publish it). Too many well intentioned friends tried to give me details of the show. Well intentioned family, recorded the show for me on TV. Arghhhhhhh!!!!! Not the same people, not the same.

One last deep sigh - and moving on. Sighhhhh........................................And Hmmmmmm.....not so miserable now.

Time, cuddling and bad memory - combos for a happy survival.