"So,how exactly are you feeling now?'--asked the doctor.
"Kind of groggy,you no...I feel all stuffy aaa..aaa...Achoo!Excuse me...Sticky..aan"--Venkat could'nt continue further.

"Oh..Ok..I get it..It is the classic case of inflammation of the respiratory tract..nothing to worry..It's the allergy season after all"--the remaining words just faded from Venkat's ears.

He waz feeling miserable...not because of the irritation in his nose,but,because of his inability to "exactly" reveal his ailment to the doctor.He waz left groping for words.

He wondered how things would have been different had he been back home.Alright..agreed that he really did not like his mom nagging him just at the wrong time,reminding him why he should not have spent the previous night chit-chatting with his friends for hours in the verendah, what with the cold wind blowing on one side and his dad's anger on the other.He also did not approve of his mom making a big fuss over it,dating back to his childhood,how he suffered from The mother of all colds for five consecutive days and did not stop sneezing for 5 consecutive hours.But,hey,atleast,he waz able to exactly describe in the most colorful erms as to how he felt,what he felt,where he felt.

To his doctor he would say,he felt all "Vazhavazha..kozhaKozha" inside..That would be enough for the doctor who would brighten up immediately and thank him profusely for making short of his diagnostic work.

Funny,venkat felt,how certain words have a life all their own,conjuring up vivid images that would be impossible to describe otherwise.He remembered how his mom's words etched themselves into undithered images(rivalling adobe's photoshop,u no!),when she described,over AT&T's long distance calls,how she had given a fitting repartee to his "vaayadi Vasantha athai's" vazhavazha-kozhakozha lectures.She would also tell him about some little kid in the family who waz full of "mookkum-muzhi".At first,he had difficulty visualizing a kid which waz full of "Nose and Eyes",but now,after all these years of seeing himself become an uncle to countless nephews and neices,he sure waz able to see what his mom just said.If he did something ridiculously stupid,like the time when he tried making pongal with toor-dal(seems like they make pongal with moong-dal,so what?It;z the thought that counts,what say?),his mom would just need to say "Asattu-piyan" and it would make perfect sense.No wasted words.Just the right touch!

It waz from his mom that Venkat learned new forms of expressions that he never got tired of using it on guileless young kids.He did this for two reasons.Kids do not get offended,partly becoz they don;t care(as long as they get their chocolates..!)and partly becoz they don't really know the meaning.There iz an army of nephews and neices who are going round the town telling puzzled guests they want to grow up "kaskh-mushk","kozukh-mozukh" instead of becoming teachers,postman,washerman in that order.He used to call this little monster of a nephew "motta-mandai"( just after the customary visit to Tirupathi),that that name stuck like a sticky gum under a school desk that must have been there since the evolution of time.Venkat gathered that this little "mottai-mandai" waz no more little,and has grown big enough that he is thirsting for the dear blood of his dear uncle who nominated him in the first place.

"How are you doing today--May I have ur prescription please?"-

"Here Sir...Is ur Allegra..and the dosage..."u have a good day..!next please..!