The Language goof-up

It was a hot May day and I was sitting on the porch of our house at Srirangam , my native place. This is the place where my paternal grandparents live . It was customary to book train tickets from Bombay (Mumbai) to Srirangam via Madras(Chennai) two months prior to starting of my Summer vacation. Srirangam is a beautiful place and the abode of the famous Sri Ranganathar Swamy Temple . Srirangam is considered as the biggest functioning Hindu temple in the world and so one of the major pilgrimage destinations for Hindus .

 It had been two weeks since I stayed at my grandparents’ house . I used to frequently visit my athai (Aunt) and peripa (Uncle) during the week since all of us stayed in close proximity . My cousins were very fond of me since I was the youngest of the lot there . I used to ride pillion on their cycles and wave my hands at the passersby. But today I had no time for a pillion ride as my neighbours from Mumbai  were coming to Srirangam to stay with us while they could have the Lord’s darshan for a couple of days.

The house was abuzz with preparations for the guests and  all I had to do was stay out of their way  for my mother feared that I would be more of a trouble than help in such times . But I don’t disagree because a child of mere 6 years could only be playful and live a carefree life. While I was thinking what next could be done apart from feeding leaves to the goats sitting around the porch ,  a cycle rickshaw halted in front of our house . Before I could look at the people sitting inside , I heard a familiar voice calling out my name . I had no doubt it was Guddu ,my neighbour cum bhaiya from Mumbai . He was accompanied by his parents and they all looked very worn out from the long hours of travelling . I welcomed them inside while still holding Guddu’s hands . Within a couple of few minutes everyone knew each other and I was made to sit with them to give company while my mother prepared the refreshments . Soon enough I heard my cousin, Jillu’s cycle bell and he came inside asking who had come to the house for he did not recognize the 3 pairs of sandals lying at the footsteps. He was four years elder to me and the second most pampered child  the first one being me .

After I introduced him to them , he left for the kitchen to assist my mother in serving the guests . He soon brought a tray with 3 glasses of water . Guddu drank the water but it still hadn’t quenched his thirst and he asked Jillu for ‘MORE’. Now Jillu being just a few years elder to me and not remembering that the visitors did not know Tamil mistook the English word ‘M-O-R-E’ meaning more water for the Tamil word ‘M-O-R-E’ meaning buttermilk . Happily taking the order for a glass of  buttermilk , he passed the message to my mother . As asked , my mother prepared a glass of buttermilk and served it in a tumbler , a stainless steel glass .

Jillu came with the tumbler in his hands and offered it to Guddu . The next moment we saw Guddu’s quizzical  funny facial expression for he sipped the salty buttermilk all in one gulp thinking it was water. After the saltiness in his tongue faded away , he spoke to my mother in a mix of Hindi and English what he actually wanted was water but that he drank something salty just now . My mother had a hearty laugh after hearing it and then explained about the language goof-up to everyone. Jillu blushed after hearing his goof –up and  blushes till this very day when I talk about the incident.  All he says is “No M-O-R-E of the past ” .