Return of the Native I just returned from the college. Yes, I am a second year student in the college named after the great Dr MGR. My father was happy about my academic performance. But he had a grouse- that I was generally tongue-tied and could not make small talk. But if it is of academic nature, then, of course it was a torrent of words or a cascade of arguments and most of the time a monologue- essentially of my own.                   I entered the kitchen. Mother was so busy. Also she looked so happy. Not so in the last few years, may be three or four. She turned around and spoke to me "Kunja! Periathambi is coming in three days. And I got a lot to do. He likes barfi, seedai, murukku…" She went on reeling out a long list of Periathambi's favourite eatables.          Periathambi(big brother) is my brother Arun, who is now in USA for the last 3 ˝ years. He is coming home after a long time. My mother is very fond of him, I cannot blame her. After all he is her first born. She was an expert cook and she was fond of making any food and Arun likes her dishes, specially made for him.             Now I was also getting excited. Looking forward to seeing him after so many years. Have to learn a lot from him. Especially how to make small talk. I heard the gate creaking. Looks like somebody is coming. Peeped out through the window. It was dad. I rushed out and told him the news. Which mom received in the afternoon. For Arun had spoken to her.            Just like mom. He was all smiles and started walking briskly in. No signs of tiredness, fatigue. Absolute sea-change in the appearance on hearing the happy news. Its all gone, poye pochchu.            The day came. He came. I took out a diary. And started writing down as Arun was speaking to dad. Not for the contents. Only the language. Dad's face showed a big question mark, as he saw me. Then he guessed the purpose and grinned at me. An "improvement  programme" for me. On the American usage of words. Arun asked " Ajit, what are you doing?" I told him and he liked the idea.                  Two weeks just flew off. A period of gaiety, happiness, of visits to meet relatives, theme parks and what not. My parents were never so happy as far as I could remeber. The last day arrived. My brother will be leaving in the night. All international flights from Madras depart only in the night. Even the English had left India only in the night. They must have used the international flights, obviously. May be British Airways or its predecessor, the BOAC.                  Arun asked me" What have you written so far in the diary, Ajit? Read it for my sake".  I started reading, but the reading was very short. Only a few minutes. His face blanched. But he managed to smile. And said "ok, you got it". My dad could not make out anything. But I have been practising what I had written during the last so many days. All words of American short talk. For nobody there had the patience to speak long sentences.May be that will make them look geeky.                  Ok Guys, believe me, Sure, its great telling you the story. Sounds great, isn't it? Would love it. I guess so. But gotta go, Really. Take care. Thanks for hearing. You're welcome. Have a great day. You too. Me too.