#most western shows i saw when i was younger in india were mostly dubbed in tamil/native languages

[demigod-of-the-agni]

Four Cups of Coffee and a Plastic Flower

(wip of the trans!pavitr fic) + tamil translations under cut + little life update??

டக்–டக்! ¹

Bhim leapt up to open the door quicker than Maya could track him across the room. Hurrying to finish the four cups of coffee, Maya heard the door slam open and a series of giggles echoing through the hallways. Bhim’s voice was loud, light and breezy as he said, ‘Ah, there’s my favourite little pappu kutty²! Did you miss Bhim Uncle?’

‘Aamaam³! Hi, Uncle!’ came Parvati’s shrill voice, her laughter cut short as she was presumably swung about the room by Bhim. Maya couldn’t help but chuckle, trying to imagine everything going on in the neighbouring room. She had been in the kitchen all day while Bhim had been tidying up the home as best as he could, the two preparing lunch for when the Prabhakar family came over to spend the day together. As usual, it was another meeting set up by Bhim and his brother Rijul, boys who were inseparable since birth. Maya and Rijul’s wife Manjula spent most of their days catching each other up on their husbands’ antics; but those days of gossiping over the telephone had quietened once Rijul and Manjula had a daughter keeping them on their toes.

Pulling out a brass tray, Maya placed the cups onto it and carried the whole set out of the kitchen. Turning into the living space with the tray and coffee balanced carefully in her hands, she beamed wide at the three guests in their small home.

Sitting opposite to Bhim on the small flower-patterned couch were Rijul and Manjula, both dressed in casual clothes — Rijul in his famous blue plaid shirt and khaki pants, and Manjula in her orange churidar. Rijul often readjusted his too-big glasses on the bridge of his nose, which Manjula always complained to Maya during their many phone calls, saying, I’ve told him so many times, but those frames are too big for him. He never listens to me, of course, he just likes the shape of them.

Upon seeing her, Manjula smiled and said, ‘Hello, Maya! Been a long time, hasn’t it?’

Setting down the tray on the table set between the couch and chairs, Maya handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Manjula, I missed you,’ she said with faux sadness but still with that tenderness she reserved for her friend, her family. ‘What has Rijul dragged you into this time?’

Rijul coughed, taking his cup from Maya’s outstretched hand. ‘Nothing!’ he said indignantly, readjusting his glasses. ‘Well, I didn’t have any plans for today. Parvi wanted to see you guys again.’

As if on cue, Parvati wailed and tried climbing up Bhim’s leg, babbling out a string of sounds. She moved too much for Maya to give Bhim his cup of coffee without it being knocked over, so she instead sat beside Bhim on a metal framed chair, watching as her niece playfully tugged at Bhim’s veshti. 

Parvati Prabhakar looked a lot like her father, and thus a lot like her uncle, too — Maya could pick out the wide nose she saw on Bhim, and her warmer, darker skin tone was from her father. The thick, sloping eyebrows was another thing she shared with Rijul, but Parvati’s hair, braided tightly and intricately and tied off at the end with a plastic flower hair tie, was much thicker and silkier than her father or Bhim’s wispy, greying hair. Maya assumed it came from her mother, and she couldn’t help but point it out.

‘My, look at your hair, kutty pappa²,’ she gushed, reaching for Parvati. She was rewarded with the preschooler looking at her with large eyes and trotting forward, grabbing onto her patterned skirt with curiosity. ‘It’s so beautiful and soft.’

Parvati gave her a toothy grin. ‘Thank you, Aunty! Amma ennaku mudi pinnitanga⁴,’ she said in Tamil, doing her best to emphasise the sounds that often got lost in colloquial conversation. ‘Romba azhagaa pinnitanga!⁵’

‘Ah, romba azhagaa irukkuthu!⁶’ Maya echoed. ‘You speak Tamil very well, kutty pappa. Can you understand English? Do amma and appa make you learn English?’

An emphatic nod paired with pouting lips, followed by a stilted, ‘I can speak English!’ Then a pause, and Maya could see the gears turning in the kid’s brain before Parvati switched back to Tamil: ‘Ammavum appavum TV-la English serial poduvanga. Ennaku suthuma pidikaathu! Eppa pathalum anthu Cocomelon varum. Vithiyasama munji vechirakum, Aunty; bayama irukkuthu paakkambothu.⁷’

For emphasis, Parvati shivered and plastered a frightened look on her face.

‘It’s good for you, chellum²,’ Manjula insisted. ‘You learned a new word today, from the…the Incy Wincy song. Come on, tell Maya Aunty and Bhim Uncle your new word.’

Parvati frowned harder, reaching for her braid and tugging at it. Maya reached out and stroked the crown of Parvati’s head, fingers sliding over the neatly-combed hair in an attempt to get her to relax. The touch seemed to give Parvati that little boost of confidence, and she puffed out her chest and said loudly, ‘It’s “Itsy Bitsy Spaidar”, ma.’

Everyone feigned understanding and clapped, and that eased a smile out of Parvati. Maya let her hand trace down Parvati’s braid and pulled it back over the little girl’s shoulder, her fingernail catching on the plastic flower at the end, smiling as Parvati continued listing off her favourite words.

#1. டக்–டக் or "tak-tak" is just onomatopoeia i made up for someone knocking on the door.

#2. "pappu kutty", "kutty pappa" and "chellum" are just variations of the same thing, an endearment for children (i.e. "baby", "darling")

#3. "Aamaam!" translates to "Yes!/Yeah!"

#4. "Amma ennaku mudi pinnitanga" is roughly "Mum braided my hair for me"

#5. "Romba azhagaa pinnitanga!" is "She braided it so beautifully!"

#6. "Ah, romba azhagaa irukkuthu" is "Yes, it is very beautiful"

#7. "Ammavum appavum TV-la English serial poduvanga. Ennaku suthuma pidikaathu! Eppa pathalum anthu Cocomelon varum. Vithiyasama munji vechirakum, Aunty; bayama irukkuthu paakkambothu" is just "Mum and dad put on English serials (shows) on the TV. Cocomelon always shows up. It makes/has a weird face, Aunty. It's scary to watch [it]."

#8. not really a translation but the reason why "spider" is written as "spaidar" is because that would be how "spider" was transliterated- "ஸ்பைடர்" -> ஸ்-பை-ட-ர் (s-pai-da-r) so that's just something Neat for you. also fun fact the first letter ஸ "sa" is not even a tamil letter, it's sanskrit, because funny enough most indian scripts/languages will borrow sanskrit letters/words that the existing alphabet doesn't have. i don't know why it happens, i think in the case of tamil it might have been the spread of indo-aryan cultures mixing with dravidian cultures? don't quote me on that

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okay life update. holy shit you actually got down this far. i appreciate it, really

okay look. i feel really bad for not posting anything mmau-related recently. both here and on ao3. it's like i've killed the mmau hype that i built up a year ago, like all the enthusiasm just seemingly vanished in such a short time.

truth is: i think about the mmau all the time. it's just the depression has actually knocked me off the board and i'm just Stuck Thinking. truly i think about pavitr and his history and his family and friends and the shenanigans he gets up to. i even think about writing emails begging marvel asking about new pavitr stories (like an idiot)

but everything is Very hard nowadays and i feel bad and have to remind myself that i'm doing all i can just to make it through another day. even when i manage to grab a few moments for myself. i still really can't bring myself to do anything fun lol.

so. anyway. here. a snippet of a mmau fic that has been in the works for literal months. adding one or two lines whenever i can. it's about pavitr and maya aunty. about them growing up together. about hair days and trauma and persistence. it's also trans pavitr so you REALLY don't want to miss out when i drop this banger on the world wide web !!!!

okay cool sick unintentional emotional dump now bye bye and enjoy the ficlet !!!