A whisker away from disaster and preparation of the 'vishukkani'

After our usual morning chores, Lekha and I set off to my sister’s place for a pre-vishu lunch. Enroute, I’d to fill fuel in my vehicle and was headed to the petrol pump that we regularly visit for the purpose. From the main road, I’d to turn left to get into the bunk and with the indicators on, no sooner had I started negotiating the maneuver when a speeding Honda city just swooshed past our left, swerving violently in the process and did not bother to stop, knowing fully well that he was in the wrong. An unpleasant situation was definitely avoided.
Lunch at my sister’s place was, as usual, sumptuous with a wide variety of dishes and I ended up eating silly, which was a foregone conclusion what with the lip smacking delicacies in abundance! The ‘kaineetam’(gifting of a token sum of money on the occasion of Vishu) was distributed by us to Minni and Ammu and we rushed back to Arjan Vihar as there was a conglomeration of the Sai Baba devotees in the evening, at Dwarka and a serpentine queue of vehicles had already started making their way in, as we were moving out.
Late in the evening, it was time for us to set up the ‘vishukkani’ in front of the deities and keep everything ready for viewing, first thing in the morning, on getting up from sleep. I’ve always enjoyed doing this since my childhood, when the entire household painstakingly went through the minutest detail, to ensure setting up of a smart arrangement, before going to bed. On the day of ‘Vishu’, after lighting the traditional lamps, the elders after having seen the ‘kani’ themselves, used to wake us, children, up and cupping their palms over our eyes take us to the puja room to view the splendour of the arrangement, denoting the start of yet another new year. Later, after bath, change and puja, the patriarch used to distribute the ‘kaineetam’. Tomorrow, it will be my turn to do that for Lekha as I’d been doing in the last ten years that we’ve been at Delhi.
Tailpiece.
When I was a kid, I used to invariably open my eyes earlier than usual and see a pair of slippers or something as silly as that, before shutting my eyes tight yet again and awaiting my turn to be taken in front of the ‘vishukkani’. And I used to hide this fact from my cousins as it was too embarrassing!