The Rojak Pot Of Sorts With A Jaffna Tamilian Twist

By Nirmala Kasinathan

'The Rojak Pot Of Sorts With A Jaffna Tamilian Twist' is a mixed anthology of short stories written by a Malaysian author of Jaffna Tamil descent and showcases 18 different short stories of varying genres, 12 of which have been previously published in an anthology entitled 'The Wedding Plans And Other Short Stories'. The history, culture, traditions, religious beliefs and practices, as well as food of the Malaysian and Jaffna Tamilian diaspora are brought to life in the plots and characters which potray the assimilation of their people into the local societies at their respective locations.These compelling stories are written in a myriad of practical real-life themes ranging from love and marriage to family, career, adventure, legal system and health concerns. Everyday life, is humorously narrated through a myriad of interesting characters and plots.

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Nirmala Kasinathan
• Release date: Jun 14, 2025
• ISBN: 9798231376476

Nirmala Kasinathan

The author, Dr. Nirmala Kasinathan  is herself representative of the younger generation of the Jaffna Tamilian diaspora and has family and friends both in Malaysia and abroad.  With the exception of her escapades traveling and globe trotting, she has spent most of her years in Ipoh. She is currently a practicing medical doctor at Hospital Raja Permaisuri Bainun, Ipoh.   She was inspired to write short stories because she writes part time and this genre could better fit into her tight schedule. She also hoped that short stories would reach a wider readership of working adults, or school and college students with busy schedules themselves. These 18 short stories were written over a period exceeding 3 years.   She started writing articles for school and college magazines while studying at Tarcisian Convent and later at Melaka Manipal Medical College. She has been writing fiction of  varied genres. Her debut novel 'Woven in Deception', a historical fiction was published by SBPRA, USA in 2013. Beyond Deception, a sequel to Woven in Deception and a science fiction is her second novel to date and was published by Kindle Direct Publishing, USA, in 2018.

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Dedications

Specially dedicated to my loving family who’ve been my pillar of support and my inspiration. The ones who’ve tolerated my quirkiness, shared my ups and pulled me out of my downs... my dearest parents, the late Mr. Kasinathan, my mother, Mrs. Rathy  Kasinathan, my supportive sister Dr. Premela, my brother in-law, Mr. Thavanesan, my loving brother, Mr. Shanmuga Sundaram and my dearest nephew, Keshava. Thank you all for fuelling my dreams...

Preface

‘T he Rojak Pot Of Sorts With A Jaffna Tamilian Twist’ is a mixed anthology of short stories written by a Malaysian author of Jaffna Tamil descent and showcases 18 different short stories of varying genres, 12 of which have been previously published in an anthology entitled ‘The Wedding Plans And Other Short Stories’. The history, culture, traditions, religious beliefs and practices, as well as food of the Malaysian and Jaffna Tamilian diaspora are brought to life in the plots and characters which potray the assimilation of their people into the local societies at their respective locations.

These compelling stories are written in a myriad of practical real-life themes ranging from love and marriage to family, career, adventure, legal system and health concerns. Everyday life, is humorously narrated through a myriad of interesting characters and plots. 

‘The Stuporous Traipse’ is the story of a retired engineering professor who recollects a bout of chicken pox during her student days in Penang, when she developed delirium during which she experiences a supernatural encounter with God and had some of her doubts on life cleared.

‘Some friendships are forever’ is the story of the kinship and the bond of sisterhood with her multiracial and multicultural childhood friends that Namitha has come to appreciate despite all the globe-trotting and success she has had.

‘Coming Home’ is the story of a successful young Surgeon in Torquay, who develops amnesia after his car got drowned at sea and he went missing. His family believed him to be dead and went into a severe bout of depression. An unexpected

twist of events reunite them years later.

‘The Exchange Student’ tells the story of an exchange student, Rania, of mixed parentage who comes to live in Malaysia with Mrs. Menon and her son, Dave, only to discover a surprising secret that alters her whole life. ‘

Crossing the Bridge’ is the story of Shilpa, a dentist by profession, who falls in love with her brother’s good friend, Varun, a general surgeon who is from a different community than her own and has doubts on if her parents would approve. But along the way, she becomes suspicious of Varun having a relationship with a Muslim friend and is on the verge of

calling it all off.

‘For The Love of Lovita’ is the story of Lovita, a child of two years of age who goes missing during a most unfortunate car accident and she was never found for 18 years after

continuous search efforts by her parents, Jai and Lisa, who were successful enterpreneurs never materialized and were abandoned. Things change suddenly after a ‘Save The Planet’ campaign at a college 18 years later, where Lisa gives away a prize to the winner, a young lady named Malini, who stirs in her maternal instincts and strong emotions.

‘The Wedding Plans’ tells the story of a young couple on the verge of marriage, Jegan and Nivashini who suddenly loose touch due to an unexpected, cruel, twist of fate only to bump into each other accidentally many months later.

‘When It Isn’t All About Love, Laughter and Happily Ever After’ is the story of Sanjay and Divani, a young, modern couple, who’s world turns haywire when Sanjay is retrenched from his job in a multinational software firm, soon after the birth of their  young child.

In ‘Indeed a Waggely Tale’, Titus and Lolla, the loving pet labradors of Jeeva and Nikhita, are kidnapped during a picnic at Melbourne’s Great Ocean Road. Will they be rescued and reunited with their owners?

‘Stubbornly Undefeated But Oftentimes Overruled’ is the story of Nishalini who grows up to become a successful lawyer who has just about given up on the idea of marriage. She takes on a case for a family friend, against a medical company over a drug that had recently been withdrawn due to carcinogenic property. The plot that unfolds holds an

unexpected twist that will put a smile on your lips.

‘Nothing Like Seafood Odiyal Kool For The Jaffna Tamilian Soul’ is a story set during the 2020 COVID-19 lockdown in Malaysia and revolves around the lives of Dhashini and her family who are unable to unite, share stories and carry out their plans due to the lockdown.

‘A TRADITION OF SELF Defense’ is the tale of Malini, a child of mixed parentage who’s skills in Tae Kwon Do, an art of self defense, is able to safe a friend from danger. She realizes that she now shared a tradition with her parents who have a similar story which eventually brought them together.

‘Double Trouble’ is a tale of twin girls, Sathya and Sandhya whos’ perfect lives are suddenly shattered following a sporting accident leaving them with little choice but to

rebuild their lives.

‘Tugging Heartstrings’ tells the tale of siblings Aavishka and Aravind who are engineering students in Texas with different personalities and lifestyles. A family dilemma bring them closer but Aavishka’s relationship with a European coursemate ends unexpectedly when her father disapproves leaving her reflecting on her existence. Thankfully, her brother endeavors to help her out and this gives the plot an unexpected twist.

‘Love Handles’ is the story of a weight loss initiative by the Nadarajah family which quite accidentally gets them

entangled in helping uncover a mystery surrounding a series of deaths on kilometer 10.5 of the Penang Bridge during consecutive leap years.

‘Trapped In Bygones’ is humorous and insightful family story revolving around Professor Nathan who is afflicted with Alzheimer’s Disease and his close knit diaspora Jaffna

Tamilian family.

‘BATTLE OF THE SEXES’ is a family story about the hurdles faced by Shantini and Arul. Their rosy marriage is put to the test when Arul meets with a fatal accident.

‘Little White Lies’ tells the story of the mischievous adventures of Ranithah and Vanithah two school besties, as they fondly recall years later during a reunion.

~1~

The Stuporous Traipse

I HAD JUST RECENTLY turned 70. I was often told that one would mellow with age. I must have in some ways but my mind, thoughts and memories remained intact and focused as ever. I was recently discharged from the hospital following a bout of sepsis and thankfully was fit and well, walking on my own two feet accompanied by my husband and daughter. I was told by my physician, an old classmate, that I was most

fortunate  to  have  made  it  through  without  much

complications except that I drove the nurses in the ward up the wall during my episode of delirium. I immediately  apologized.

This wasn’t my first time however. As I walked out the doctor’s room, my thoughts took me on a journey through an often-revisited time tunnel. It took me back to my youthful student days. It was April 1972 if I recalled correctly, when I first set foot on the university grounds in Penang.

Indeed, it was my first experience staying miles away

from my hometown of Cameron Highlands, away from the

familiarity of my family and neighborhood farms, and beyond the watchful gaze of my parents and family. I had secured a place in the Bachelor of Electrical and Electronic Engineering programme which I had very much aspired for. My thoughts moved to all my cherished moments in the last few months. My first glass of wine. My first boyfriend. My first kiss. I was

having the time of my life.  Moving away from home had turned me into a whole new person. It is like I had left my cocoon finally and blossomed into the most exotic butterfly with wings of my own.

Physics, differentiation and calculus moved lower down on my priority list with every new experience. It did occur to me more than once that I’ll need to master these equations as a stepping stone to my engineering degree and to making my family proud. But just too many things had taken precedence in my first few months away from home. I was just about settling into life away from home and making time for these equations when I discovered that I was down with my first bout of chicken pox...   

THE NEXT THING I RECALLED was that I was on a bus traversing the strip of the Straits of Malacca separating Penang from the peninsular mainland. It was known as the Penang Straits. I had called home to inform my mom and dad about the papules that emerged on my trunk and the fever just this morning, and was given strict orders to board the next available bus and head straight home. Mom and Dad were both attached to the hospital at Tanah Rata. Dad, the chief pharmacist and mom a physiotherapist. I was dizzy and delirious despite the paracetamol I had ingested, but fully aware of my head bobbing up and down and my whole body juggling to the rhythm of the express bus. 

Still later during the ride, when we were alighting the familiar but steep curves and bends up the road to Tanah Rata from Simpang Pulai, I almost threw up once but thankfully, was rescued by the bottle of ‘Axe brand

medicated oil’ I had in my bag. I never realized how much I shook on the bus before. 

I arrived home safely soon after, and found the

customary neem leaves hanging on my house entrance and scattered on my bed – traditionally used to reduce itchiness and prevent superimposed bacterial infection. I was greeted warmly by mom and dad and my smiling 10 year old brother. Mom noticed immediately that I was running a spike of fever.

My God, you are boiling hot! she cried immediately. My little brother was instructed to keep away from me. Immediately, I was given two tablets of paracetamol and sent up to my room for a warm shower before I took rest. I’ll bring your tea and dinner up shortly, go on up to your room and take a shower, Anuradha!said mom sternly. Dad nodded at me solemnly,

and lifted my bags, gesturing at me to take the lead upstairs.

My fever soon settled again. I could barely swallow the spoonfuls of steaming vegetable chowder mom had quickly made for me. I was most grateful for the hot lemon tea that came after that. I was exhausted from the bout of fever due to the chicken pox as much as from the ride back home. Mom and Dad bid me good night, advising me to get some rest. I soon settled down on my bed dozing off by eight pm.

I was awakened at ten thanks to the ringing tone of my hand phone. It was Alyssa, my coursemate from university. She inquired on my condition and if I had arrived safely. We chatted for a while about classes and other matters, then she too felt I better rest. I was about to return to sleep when I decided to give Vijay a call. A smile crept to my lips on the thought of Vijay, my first love and boyfriend who was also my senior in university by a year. Vijay inquired on my health. He was missing me and was overjoyed to hear my voice. He asked if my parents would mind if he paid me a visit that coming weekend. I wasn’t too sure. I told him that I’ll update him soon. We chatted aimlessly for a while. He offered to help me with my lessons when I got back. I thanked him and promised to take him up on his offer. Against my will, my eyes began closing again. I needed my rest and had to return to

sleep. We bid good night.

I returned to my bed. I checked to see if the fever had settled. It had. I lay back down to sleep. I thought I would sleep like a log, but nothing prepared me for that restless night of tossing and turning. I felt tired and weak. I woke up at

dawn listless and unrested, my clothes drenched in sweat. So many different dreams came back to my mind. A repeated one where my parents admonished me for not getting through my exams. A few different versions where I was becoming a disappointment to them. It made me fearful, and I was filled with a sense of guilt. I needed to start on my assignments for physics, differentiation and calculus immediately. I rummaged through my bags for my books.  ***

I opened my books and flipped through the pages aimlessly, my thoughts in disarray. I tried hard to focus on the

pages of equations, but the numbers swarmed around the pages. I rubbed my eyes and massaged my temples slowly. I tried to focus my thoughts. I was an avid reader and a brilliant student. Most teachers were all praises for my ability to grasp fine details and read between the lines but sometimes I was reprimanded for my absentmindedness. My thoughts were sometimes too far fetched, too deep that it didn’t remain grounded and rooted to the present. But this time was

different. I closed my eyes and recited the Hare Krishna Maha manthra. Suddenly, I realized I was once again no longer at my comfortable study table. 

Before  I  realized  what  was  happening, I was

embarking on a journey to the past, spanning centuries, traversing oceans and crossing vast land across international borders. I’ve done this time traveling before, I thought excitedly, recalling my memories of traversing all planes or time and distance through my books at the library in school or from my study table at home. My thoughts were focused on the history and evolution of the complexities of mathematical and scientific equations. All that scorching fever, giddiness, nausea and confusion- basically the delirium, a term my parents sometimes used, for the symptomatology I had just experienced – magically

disappeared into thin air. I transformed into an agile, energetic, rubber-like ball and bounced around my surroundings so high and with so much vigour. I would have thought that the simple rubber ball would be void of emotions and thoughts, but this was different. It was probably my soul, my aura, my concentration and my will and determination energizing the otherwise lifeless ball. At a deeper level however, I realized that my mind had become tranquil, and I was filled with a sense clarity and felt as if I had become

overwhelmingly enlightened. 

I suddenly recalled versus from the Bhagavad Gita, a Hindu scripture (dating back to 400 BCE) which I had read during the break after my form six exams. A powerful Hindu text that explained so clearly prior Vedic texts (written as early as 1500 BCE) pertaining to our universe in relation to every living entity and it being a reflection of our Creator himself. I recalled that meditating on God’s wondrous

creations and our infinite diversity, I questioned the existence of my humble human self in relation to the Creator, in relation to every other living entity and in relation to the religious laws governing our existence. I could just about almost grasp the karmic laws of eternal justice governing our soul. Every action good or bad is accounted for so meticulously and carried forward in our respective ledgers through time. Our destinies were determined by the just laws of karma fairly meted out, one lifetime after another as we take on successive cycles of rebirth till we are purified of our sins and our soul earns its place in the holy abode of the Lord. God made us diverse, but life’s rules were the same across the human race – do no evil, avoid all crime, deceit and ill thought, be strong and humble when facing life’s ups and downs.  

The concept of us being part of the one and the whole of God’s creation somehow left me in deep thought. It is said that every deity Hindus worshipped formed the Devas and Devis created by our Creator to be part of his divine lineup and each of their avatars finally merged as one as with every morsel of our human lives and the worldly existence our universe which collectively made up the projections of our Creator.  But it left me in doubt. If I was part of that whole, was

a part of my older self always a young child and a senior person too? Was a part of me always non-vegetarian even when I was strictly vegan? Was a part of my jovial, highspirited, self also wiser, more knowledgeable and more religious? Could my existence as a student aspiring to be a future professional, a meniscule morsel - part of that whole, be responsible for manslaughter and bloodshed but at that very same moment also preach and practice ‘ahimsa’ or nonviolence? On a similar note, was I also part of the members of mankind who were being sworn in as nuns and priests, and similarly also a touch of still others who shamelessly chose the paths of sex workers and the likes? Was my brown skin also in a sense part white, colored and black? Was my purity tainted by the thoughtless sins and lies of fellow humans?  Was I in a sense rich when in poverty and also uncannily poor in abundance? Was I sometimes brilliant but silly and still some other times, in the depths of my idiocy, find my greatest genius? Was there tranquillity and serenity in the depths of insanity? Was every dividing notion conceived by man truly only an illusion or ‘maya’ – when in the end we embrace the whole as one and the one as whole? Why did I conceive myself as a bouncing rubber-like ball traversing oceans and land ? Was I only a play instrument of our beloved Creator, and our planet Earth merely His playground for a ball game of sorts?  I pondered silently as I subconsciously returned from my supernatural experience back to my study table at home. 

Beyond doubt, our Creator truly baffled me with the profound depth and diversity of His creations. But in embracing God, we learn acceptance. In surrendering to the Creator, we learn how humbling His creations really are and how nearly impossible it is for us to consciously and open mindedly accept the rich diversity of human existence all whilst keeping abreast with the baffling scientific revelations of the universe, living a culturally acceptable life, and continuing our lifelines through procreation. I carelessly shook my head in wonder. I heard the ticking clock that signaled that it was time once again for equations. One very salient tenet of Hinduism is that it was necessary for one to complete our duties and perform our roles well but any fruits of our labor should be renounced and surrendered to the

Lord. We were merely instruments through which God acted. 

Just as I was about to reread my textbook on calculus, my mind wondered off again, this time on a historical journey of numerals and mathematical equations. Pre-historic ways of keeping count using fingers, stones, tallies etc. were eventually replaced by an evolving series of numerals starting with Egyptian cuneiform numerals in the 2000s BC, followed by Greek, Roman and Syrian numerals. However, the HinduArabic numeral system that originated between the 1st and 4th centuries in India which are represented by numerals 0,1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8 and 9 remains today the most vastly utilized numerical system and gradually evolved into a 13 numeral system, which consists of the 10 numerals  plus decimals,  negative integers which are numbers  represented by  a prefix

minus sign and a vinculum to denote repeated numbers.

I looked alternatingly at my calculus, differentiation and physics textbooks which were filled with so much numerical jargon that I had only fundamental knowledge in and strived to master. The journey from early Hindu-Arabic numerals to modern day infinitesimal calculus, both

differential and integral as well as physics as a fundamental natural science of matter has been most challenging and world changing with both

Reviews for The Rojak Pot Of Sorts With A Jaffna Tamilian Twist

[Thavamalar Balendran · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Had a good read of our culture traditions and beliefs was very interesting
Good language flow