In weekly notes, in regular life, on weekends and while biking, I’ve found V to be a great companion. And I mean that with all the nice feelings the soft syllable of the word ‘companion’ brings. I’ve heard the word rhythm often this past week life, I’d like to think people have become rhythmic, after a long time, in my daily juggle. Within all the rain that yelahanka has been receiveing, an army of ants have been building a big home in the backyard of YNC. Notice the uniform size of the mud balls that the worker ants have been making It almost appears parabolic in shape! I biked to Salem, and it was a great exodus that accompanied me. Busses filled with people packed like a city bus on a long distance bus, trucks and cars and bikers, all heading out south on the only highway into TN. After ECity, V gave me company on a call with all the loneliness of waiting alongside car exhaust and truck farts. It was his usual remote-mapping time, and he decided to map the Hosur-Dharmapuri stretch, the stretch I was in. I called it Experiential Mapping (remote), he called it interactive mapping. The drive out of bangalore city onto hosur road took me 2 or more hours with the painful traffic of tumkur road, Bommasandra and then leading onto traffic in Hosur and on the road to Krishnagiri. Tumkur road was lit by a brilliantly blue sky that my camera is not lying about. In all this brilliantly blue evening, hoards of busses left the city into Karnataka from Tumkur road, and the rain never blessed us. On the village roads inbetween the Hosur-Krishnagiri Road and the Hosur-Rayakottai road, there appeared to be these brilliantly lit plots. In the blank of the village night, they magically appeared to be at different heights and sizes - because of the slopes of the region. They made for a curious sight, that I found no answer to. In Mallasamudram, small homes with terracota tiled roofs and loom machines are lessening in number on our street. Our home is an instance of it, a home that once hosted a family that spun thread, now has a multifloor cement building. The Sunnambu of the walls no longer remains in my olfactory memory, nor on my shirts and pants. They have not for a long time. And they are not so in other homes that have found other livelihoods like my parents. A kid stroller - walker This week, I write my notes sitting in Kalhatty, Uthagamandalam. The cold of the ever grey clouds gives me body company after a long long while. Ooty has been a great release from the regular weekend, but it is not so much a release for the place. There is immense stress on the region, from the roads, from the amount of people it expands to accomodate in such short bursts. There is a electronically generated pass that you need to enter, but im not sure if the number of passes are limited. Vehicles in the city are also another reason. I wonder what people from ooty want for the city. We have been walking a lot in Ooty. It is hard to find parking in the center, so you park somewhere and walk everywhere else. I think the bright lights and metal and the dull roads describe the travelling experience very well. A cement mixer hides behind a bush on a hairpin bend Ooty town precents us with a facinating elevation front of small houses and red lights. Ooty is filled on the weekends ...

Chithhapa and L who had forgotten to bring her chappal In Akkaraipatti, I was visiting to have lunch with relatives who had prayed and sacrificed to Muniyappan in a Muniyappan Kovil by the bank of the Thirumanimuthhar (pronounced thiru-mani-muthh-aaru). My Chithhappa and his kid took us to show the river a bit more downstream from the Temple. I saw so many wells this side of Mallasamudram, that I’ve never noticed inside the Town. The Town is largely filled with weaving occupations, something I note with Paavadis in Weekly Note 15. Flowing to the brim and to the brim it has flowed for the past few years. It carries the sewage of Salem City and joins the Kavery later above Karur Another Muniyappan Kovil near the banks, I wonder how so many are there close to each other A well near the river, full with the rains. 1. The Muniyappan temple. 2. Photograph of Chithhapa and L. M says that all across the region, Kelangu, Rice etc have been replaced by Coconut in the last 50 years. Notice the scale of the Orchard east of the river. The Kaveri has apparently had the same happen upstream as well Driving back from Mallasamudram, I chose to forego and go visit Mettur. The initial plan was to enter Karnataka through Malai Mahadeshwara Betta, Kollegal and Kanakapura, but that would have made me very late, so I just chose to visit Mettur. I’ve never been there, but was surprised by how industrial the town is. ...

Bangalore has its skies returned from the kala of the karmodas. They will come back soon. Aruvu had its annual meeting, Aruvu turned a year sometime in April. It was a weekend of parties, of new homes and of new years. I have not danced this much in a year nor have I slept so well in many weeks. ...

தமிழ் புத்தாண்டு நல்வாழ்த்துக்கள்…ஜெய் பீம் Happy Ambedkar Jayanthi. Jai Bhim. Happy Tamil New Year. This week has been entirely spent on a dream that refuses to be realised. Howmuchever I attempt to make it real, the world acts like a parent wanting to teach me patience, hiding it away for a few days, then not giving it to me. I’ve spent many moments of this week thinking about ambition and the wish to be driven… to be both the driver and the driven. I remember the pleasure and happiness of finishing off my mother’s Aviyal - right after I returned having known weightloss from my NCC camp. I remember having known the feeling of passing 12th standard, without failing any subject - I’ve never felt liberation like that after. There have been other kinds of weightlessness - of sunset after a light day, or in the lap of a lover on a September evening. How are these related to being driven? I think you need hope to really be driven, and I think I’ve let myself lose simple hope and the promise of pleasure in the everyday. ...