Appoopan Thaadi (Pappus/Indian Milk Weed)

The summer of early 90's made us fall in love with cricket, a curly haired, shorty had stepped on to the cricketing world and had his name engraved in people's heart and mind. The impact was so much that, even kids belonging to a small village in a football frenzy state had evolved as his fans. It was couple of years to the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, television in the neighbor’s home had only the national channel and on field cricket consumed most of our days. Back then, the real estate business had not imbibed our villages. We had vast open spaces between our homes, our homes had big compounds. Compounds with fruits and vegetable cultivation. Back then, most of the vegetables needed for basic consumption were cultivated at home. In between those large compounds, we found our cricket ground. The four sides of it surrounded by forest weed and random flora. We made our pitch in the center of it, where dry soil was available.


Teams were split based on our area, matches began as soon as the elders at home left for work. Most of us where at the age group of 5 to 7 and we were either in the process of going to grade one in school, or already had first-hand experience of wearing a school uniform. Cricket balls made of rubber were bought at five rupees and we had to put our share to make it five. Those were actually my first lessons at team building and coordinating a purchase from the real market. If we were lucky, some body's distant uncle working in Dubai would have gifted him a cricket bat and he would have turned up to play, else it was the bat made of coconut branch with the bicycle air tube cut out, as its grip that gave us the professional feel.


We lost quite few of the rubber balls hit into the dense forest weed regions of the ground. If we had someone field there, we got the balls back, else that was the day. It was one of those days, when we lost the ball as soon as the match began, and all of us walked back home. I was under irritable depression, I was the one batting and had hardly faced any balls. Those were the days, when fifty paisa coins meant a world to us and donations were scarce. We had our inhibitions, to step out to the dense areas of forest weeds and search for the ball alone. We had spotted snakes once in a while and people at home never let us get there alone. With all the guts I had gained of watching Mowgli in Jungle Book, I decided to step out there, in search for the lost ball.


 Few minutes into the search and I had already grown restless, the sun was piercing through the branches of various trees and light breeze had the branches sway in its rhythm, I looked up to the heavens in desperation and like a revelation, a milky white bunch of light silky hairs came down from the sky, making its way in between the branches rocking to the rhythm of breeze. It was floating in the air, and never wanted to land. At first I was scared, and the more time it took to come down, my fear turned into curiosity and curiosity turned into delight. It had a tiny brownish seed from which the silky hairs had grown, I tried to reach out for it and the breeze took it far from me, the more I tried to chase it, the more it went far, it continued to float and I followed it with excitement. I was almost to have it land in my palm, the breeze took it away and hit the tamarind tree on its way.


 I felt dejected and heart broken, it wasn't flying anymore, it had lost its life and laid there resting itself on the thick grass. I rushed towards the tree and placed it in my palm with utmost care. I wanted to give it first aid and looked around, that is when reality struck me. I had already come long across to the dense forest weed area, where snakes were found. A shiver went down my spine, and I wanted to rush back. I couldn't find the way out, I couldn't find the way I came in, I was lost, scared and wanted to cry. I placed the silky hairs in my pocket and tried to rush back, while doing so, I stumbled upon the brown color five rupee ball that we lost that morning. For once I felt like a warrior who went to war and came back conquering the enemy territory. I had the war booty and the princes of the kingdom I conquered.


 I rushed back to grandma who was busy with her house chores, and narrated the events that unfolded sometime back. I showed her the silky haired creature and fret about its health. She looked at me with kind smile, and narrated the story of Appoopan Thaadi, the silky hair seed that I had confused to be a creature.


 They don't have life of their own, yet they imbibe life from the breeze that its surroundings provide. They don't have their destiny, yet they lead others. They come down from the sky in groups or alone, sway itself with the breeze and act restless, yet they calm our restless nerves. "Appoopan Thaadi" (grandfather’s beard) as they are called, are just like our wise old men at home, who have lived their destiny, yet show us the way to ours.


 Years have passed, and I sit glued to my chair at work on the 9th floor of a tower, sipping my fifth mug of coffee, having worked for the past 12 hours and slept 3 hours last night. The Middle Eastern summer has kicked off and I find myself away from the cricket grounds and the dense forest weeds, this time in the middle of concreate jungle, inhibited, waiting for an Appoopan Thaadi to help me find what am looking for.


TRK.