A Tsunami of memories.

It was with mixed emotions that I stepped down from the train that very late evening of October 3rd. I was visiting the city that I had grown up in. Jamshedpur or the 'steel city' as it is known as holds memories aplenty for me. My husband being a true blue Mumbaikar was curious to visit the city where I had made memories. He was not disappointed. 
Work brought my father to the city when I was just 3 years old and we went on to live there for 22 years. Childhood was fun. With no mobile phones, there was plenty of time and space for good old-fashioned outdoor play. College was also fun. The happy, crazy gang are still in touch with each other. 
Almost every place stirred up a memory and I happily travelled back in time. Visiting old neighbours reliving the good old days sure brought back so many smiles. As I stood outside the cottage that I once called home, more memories came flooding back. 
 I must mention the hospitality shown by the friends and neighbours who yet live in the city was more than generous. We spent the first 5 days in a club, courtesy a friend and the next 3 days at the Boulevard, now a heritage hotel. I first stayed at the hotel as a 3-year old when mom and dad moved to Jamshedpur. 
Jamshedpur is basically a private town-owned and run by corporate giants Tata. It houses the Tata Iron and Steel company and the automobile plant - Tata Motors and a host of other sister concerns. People from all over India come to work in these companies and for all practical purposes, Jamshedpur was, is and will remain a cosmopolitan city. I left the city when I was 24 years old in 1989, returned to it for a couple of days in 2010 and then revisited it again this year after a span of 8 years. wAS I surprised? 
The tiny, quiet town is still minus an airport but the traffic can now give traffic in any other big city a run for its money. 8 years ago I recognised many of the shops that I had grown up with but this time I found that most of them had disappeared to be replaced by brand outlets and jewellery showrooms. I was thrilled to find New Kangan Stores, a general store from where mom and I purchased numerous hairpins, ribbons, needles and thread still standing in a quiet corner as ramshackled as ever. The fish cum mutton mart desperately needs a few coats of paint while many of the streets remain the same. I successfully found my way in and out of the market area. 
A large number of hotels and high rises have mushroomed all over the city and the High Tech city mall - the first ever mall in the city remains the showstopper. I was amazed to see so many new structures on the XLRI campus. Having worked briefly in the library, I was once again submerged under a tsunami of memories. An old colleague took us on a tour and even treated us to lunch in the student's mess. 
The Jubilee Park where I spent many a Sunday evening and enjoyed quite a few picnics looks as beauteous as ever. 
Technically I belong to Maharashtra but this quiet little town in a faraway state of the county will always hold a place in my heart.      

On Children's Day...

They have stayed awake late
After having too much plum cake
Spotty skin, runny nose
They sure do keep you on your toes.

They've been scribbling on the walls
Interrupted your telephone calls 
Often driving you nuts 
 With their 'ifs' and 'buts.'

And yet 
You are there to banish their blues
And kiss away their boo - hoo - hoos.

You beam with pride
At hesitant step or furious stride
One so shy  another so bold
Each little treasure 
Is yours to have and to hold

No malice and hatred
To drive you wild
No guile, no violence 
Only sweet, sweet innocence. 

Thank you,

Lord
For the joys and the tears
Let us keep them close through the coming years. 

And another birthday goes by...

Where Am I at 54? 

July saw me turn 54.  I am a little older and a little wiser. Despite the fact that my hair has greyed, I am yet to hide the greys. I don't feel the need to right now. I am struggling to remain a decent weight but  I don't feel 54. 

There are books that I want to read and pages that I want to write and lands that I hope to visit. A few aches and pains have made their way into my overweight frame. Well, health is definitely a  priority now. 

The years have flown and the children have grown. My significant other and I will soon be looking at the empty nest syndrome. We will have to feed on memories, find things to do and fill the nest the best we can. Would I be happy with the free time? I can't say.   

And now you ask me...Marie, Marie, how does your garden grow? It is never to late to learn and here I am at the ripe old age of 54 discovering the joys of gardening. I knew nought about growing plants but thanks to pictures posted by friends on social media of beautiful blossoms dotting their gardens, I have decided to cultivate a new hobby.  

There have been good days and bad days as there always will. I laughed on the good days and tried hard not to complain too much about the bad ones. 

Hurray! I made it through another year...55 here I come!

Life is a gamble, don't let it leave you in shambles. 

Happy Birthday Mother India.

On your birthday dear motherland. 

May you be  clean and green

May your children learn and play;  and not be exploited in any way

May women trod freely the paths they choose

Without the obstacle of gender - specifications and the fear of sexual abuse.

May you be devoid of  scams and monetary jams

May the old and lonely find love and care

May caste, creed and race not have an ugly face

May humanity thrive in every place. 

May good be appreciated and evil defeated

May progress happen and setbacks lessen

With blessings from the good Lord night and day. 

Jai Hind!

Ramblings.

It is the last day of July and no overcast skies or thunderous clouds.  Technically it is monsoon and it should be raining buckets.  However, with exception of a couple of very rainy days the city has been under a dry spell. We have experienced a few sharp short spells and fine drizzles but nothing to rejoice about. 

What has the world been up to in the last 8 months?  Just 4 months to go before we wrap up 2018 and we have been witness to the good, the bad and the ugly in the country and abroad. 
I am saddened by the increasing number of rapes and other crimes against women. How many more rapes and crimes will it take before a woman can roam the streets fearlessly with a twinkle and not terror in her eye?  

In a path-breaking move, Prince Harry married African - American Meghan Markle in May. Let's toast to happily ever after. 

President Trump met with North Korean leader Kim Jong-un after a year of exchanging threats. The presidents discussed nuclear disarmament and defusing of tensions.

The winter Olympics in South Korea did not see either of the 2 Indian athletes bring home a  medal. Hima Das, however, set many hearts aflutter when she became the first Indian to win a gold at the under 20  IAAF Athletics championships in Finland. If only more women were encouraged to do what she did!

FIFA fever gripped the world from the 14th of June to the 15th 0f July this year.   The host country Russia did not win but underdogs Croatia reached the finals playing against  France who took away the cup. Big moment for Croatia and a bigger moment forFrance. 

The plastic ban in Maharashtra sent the state into a tizzy. 'Can the plastic, reach for fabric'.There was a big hue and cry as the change was being put in place but all is well now, with brown paper packets holding your groceries and fabric holding the brown paper bags. 
Rewind to when we were growing up and you can picture ma and pa bringing stuff home in brown paper packets and cloth bags. Both the brown paper and cloth were reusable. Let's make the world a better place!  
    The neighbours have a new leader. Erstwhile cricket captain Imran Khan begins a new inning as prime minister of Pakistan. India looks on with hope. '

What do the other 4 months hold for us?

The festive season unfolds for sure. There is  joy and peace to share with colour, revelry, feasting and greeting all around. 

Independent India turns 72. Yes, there has been progress but the nation could do better. India could be cleaner and greener, and her women safer. 

Cooking up a storm.

I entered my marital home 23 years ago armed with recipe books among other things. IN the days following up to the wedding, I had spent quite a few hours copying recipes in a  diary which even today sits along with my other recipe books. My grandmother, mother, and her siblings were all adept at creating some extraordinary culinary delights. I had a reputation to live up to.

Marriage was soon followed by motherhood and that meant rustling up baby-friendly food besides regular food. I soon had my very own collection of recipe books - learning and experimenting. I gradually moved from the traditional East Indian cuisine to the cuisines of other communities and cultures. There was so much to learn. The little that I had pottered around in the kitchen with ma during my spinsterhood days was just a drop in the ocean.
I remember the time when my brother and his family visited our home and I had cooked a peas pulao for lunch which turned out bone dry. Yes, instead of doubling the quantity of water, I had absent-mindedly added the same measure of water as the rice, something that I realized long after my guests had departed. Again, my now 20-year-old son never fails to remind me of the time when I  added very liberal amounts of coconut to pau bhaji. The coconut was to be used for another dish but was liberally sprinkled on the pau bhaji. 

There have been umpteen goof ups but all is well that ends well and today I can rustle up a pretty decent meal for my family.  (my husband, the nineteen-year-old and the 22-year-old).Together with the stack of recipe books, I have come to rely heavily on YouTube, Facebook and a virtual recipe book called  Kitchen Queen initiated by a college friend.   

I can cook but since late find cooking the daily khana - peena to be a big bore and chore.  At the same time, I am aware that there must be food on the table and so drag my feet to the kitchen. The husband pitches in whenever possible.

We are trying to make healthy eating a way of life. There are more of idlis and dosas on the breakfast table now. The oven sees more of tandoori chicken. The boys anyway are not too fond of curries.   I am waiting to bake the finger -millet- banana bread that I have chanced upon. Baking I understand is a very swift method of cooking but can also be unhealthy if you go heavy on the cheese and grease. We have invested in a steamer and often dine on steamed veggies. Salads are favoured by all. 

Here's Mrs Chef signing off, trying to put together a menu for tomorrow. 

Thank You Lord

Thank you, Lord, for the food on my table
Thank you, Lord, that I am healthy and able.

Thank you, Lord, for the roof over my head

Thank you, Lord, for the comfort of my warm soft bed.

 

Thank you, Lord, for the gift of sight
Thank you, Lord, for a restful night. 

Thank you, Lord, for the air that I breathe and the water that I drink
Thank you, Lord, that I am able to think.

Thank you, Lord, for Mom and Dad
Thank you, Lord, that they taught me good from bad. 

Thank you, Lord, for family and friends
Thank you for for your bouquets of blessings that never end.

Thank you, Lord, my mighty awesome God
I will praise and worship you evermore. 

Escalatoritis

I say an escalator is as fearful as a creepy - crawly alligator 
Yikes!A moving staircase
That would be straight out of a Harry Potter.

My friends join me in the elevator
Cajoling me to step on the scary people-mover
I am terrified!
Ha-Ha, an escalator to me spells only disaster.

The Wonder Years.

Children are the spring in your step and the sunshine in your day. Bubbling with curiosity and mischief a child will keep you on your toes. A child will love you unconditionally and will ask to be loved in return. The sound of a child's laugh may thaw the most frozen heart. Take away the online or video games and children will indulge in physical play as if their life depended on it. One of the best memories of my childhood is play time. From Hide and Seek to the boisterous  Kabbadi, I played and played well.

There was cricket and football of the gully kind. Awesome play and awesome childhood.  I was quite fascinated by cars as well and dad indulged me with a battery of toy two and four wheelers.
Children love receiving gifts.  Receiving gifts is a big part of childhood. The expectations and then the exclamations when the gift is opened. So much thought goes into those annual letters to the granddaddy of gift gives -Santa Claus. My letter gently went through the window and landed on the patch of garden, to be picked up my mom or dad in my absence.  It was ritual I followed for many years and loved every moment of it.
 My husband was wise enough to record the childish prattle of our sons on tape which serves as a great stress buster even today. Every time we listen to those mispronunciations, quips and bad grammar we are off on a nostalgically delightful trip, from which we never wish to return. The boys are now 21 and 19.
Tantrums notwithstanding, children bring love, joy, innocence, hope and trust in the otherwise complicated adult life and jaded world.  There is no place for envy, malice distrust and anger in a child's world. A child has so much to give. It is rather sad to hear of children being exploited, used and abused. The perpetrators of crime against children must be meted out the severest of punishment because where there are children, there is hope for mankind.

When Disappointment Knocks.

Do you carry the weight of disappointments on your shoulder and go around like a sad- sack?  Disappointments are an inevitable part of life. Every single human on the planet has been disappointed at some time or the other. A disappointment could be in the shape of a breakdown in a relationship, which held promise, a lost friendship, being rejected at job interviews, your life not shaping up the way you hoped it would, your finances not coming together, expectations not being met and as life goes on the list will get longer.
Let's not forget that 'every cloud has a silver lining', so let not the disappointment hold us back. If the good Lord provides for the birds in the air and the fish in the sea, will he not provide for us, whom he has created in his own image?
We must try our level best to let go of the hurt, the rejection and disappointment, pack up our bags and move on or else we are going to be as miserable as ever.  Forgiveness is a big part of coping with disappointment.  Crap happens all the time and tough times don't last tough people do. It is not the end of the world, everything that happens in life happens for a reason and for the best.
There are days when nothing goes right when every moment is fraught with anxiety and tension and we may feel ourselves hurtling down a dark deep abyss.  When the good Lord closes a door, he opens a window. He lets in a breath of fresh air - fresh opportunities that might be more suited to our needs and circumstances.

As sure as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, disappointments will come and go. It is for us to garner every ounce of strength, pick up the pieces and move on.

We must accept finite disappointment but never lose infinite hope. 

Martin Luther King, Jr.

Mom's the word.

Mother's day is almost drawing to a close. Social media was rife with mother's day prayers, blessings and wishes.
A child gives birth to a mother. I turned mom at the ripe old age of 30. My pregnancy ended abruptly when my baby decided that he wanted to be born 2 and 1/2 months early. A very stressful period ensued caring for this little boy who entered our lives so suddenly. Many many anxious moments later  Jason, as we had named him showed signs of becoming all that we hoped he would be. A  talkative bundle of energy, he stole the hearts of family and friends. Two years later his brother followed him into this great big universe. The boys as different as chalk and cheese in temperament and habits, I have had to adopt different styles of mothering with each.
Motherhood, as any mother will say, is not all roses and wine. There are heartbreaks and disappointments.  There is learning and experimenting, sharing, giving and receiving. There is exhaustion and excitement  There is joy, laughter and fun and days when you are number one. There are sacrifices to be made and long sleepless nights to be endured. At the end of the day, you wouldn't give it up for anything in the world.

I have friends with grown-up children, children who live, work or study away from home and each time they visit, it is a celebration.

My mother is 83 years old and happens to be spending mothers day with me this year. At 83 she is still quite mobile but slow.
Born and raised in Bombay, she is a professional teacher. Mom began working at the tender age of 16 and taught for almost25 years. Marriage took her to the east of the country, to a small town called Jamshedpur where she spent 22 years. She taught for 14 years in a  convent school, riding a luna to school. Considering her quiet demeanour, it was quite a feat to have accomplished.  T this day, I cannot even ride a bicycle.
Mom was an excellent cook, she dished out the most awesome food. She acquired quite a few fans and dad was her greatest fan. She won prizes in a couple of cookery contests. Gardening was a hot favourite. She spent hours tending to her potted plants. A few plants dot her living room even today.
Both mom and dad were strict disciplinarians but mom supervised lessons and homework and signed bad report cards. My tribute to mom wouldn't be complete if I did not pay tribute to her prowess as a seamstress.   Her embroidery, crochet, knitting and dressing me up in her creations are some memories that I will always cherish. She brought the living room alive with cushions and covers all created by her hands. The beautiful leaf-shaped cushions together with the tortoise cushion that she shape and embroidered herself stand testimony to her talent. Sadly, I have inherited nothing of the magic that she was able to create with the needle and thread. Yes, in school she completed my needlework for me.   The USHA  sewing machine, that stands in a corner of her bedroom today almost 63 years old would have many a tale to tell of a  little girl's dresses sewn and machine needles threaded.
Fast forward to the period when my boys were young and my husband worked overseas for long periods of time. Mom visited often helping me, raise two hyperactive little men."{Nana' remains on top of their charts even today.   
Mom today is frail but by and large independent. She is a  doting grandmother to six grandsons who in turn adore her.   She visits my brother staying some distance away but by and large spends more time in her own home. 
her own space.
MOM.

Wedding bells.

It is April and it is miserably hot.My thoughts turn to the 28th of April1995.What was so memorable about that date? Besides being an intensely hot day it was my wedding day. 
 The family comprising aunts, uncles, and cousins had gathered at an aunt's home to bless and wish me well.There were smiles and happy faces all around. Besides the other decorations, a huge bouquet of flowers stood in one corner - Romance was alive and kicking. The flowers had arrived in the morning and were from none other than the bridegroom himself. 
The happy faces soon turned to frowns as there was no sign of the dressmaker. Many frantic phone calls later, she arrived. Now I don't quite remember why she was late.Dressed in my wedding gown my face wreathed in smiles, I posed for the photo shoot. However, I left late with my bridal entourage and was even later as we got stuck in an awful traffic jam. 
 My soon -to -be husband stood at the altar biting his nails wondering whether he was going to be stood up. Even today, he recounts those anxious moments but is able to laugh at them. 
23 years later I do not remember much of the ceremony but I do remember one of the clergy who was officiating at the ceremony good-humouredly cautioning me not to break my husband's finger, as I slid the ring on.  
A reception marked the occasion. A live band, together with a performance from an Elvis Presley impersonation saw the guests put on their dancing shoes. I have not been blessed in that department and as much as I would love to. Boogying far from pumping my adrenalin gets me into a nervous sweat.  All is well that ends well and mercifully I made it through the night. Even until today dancing remains a sore point with us.  Heat notwithstanding, it was party time for one and all. 
 2020 will mark the silver jubilee of our anniversary. What can I say? There have been periods of total bliss, periods of very noisy blasts and cold sullen silences. Much to the amusement of my husband in these  23 years, I have threatened to walk out umpteen times but am very much in the marriage. 
Together we are raising two boys now in their 21st and 19th year respectively. Well, that is another story. 

PicturePerfect

Photographs evoke memories and emotions.  One is overcome by nostalgia, joy and even sorrow as one turns the pages 

of an old family album, Today pictures have gone digital but they evoke the same memories and emotions that photographs in an old-fashioned album would. 
Leafing through albums of yore - those thick books with coarse black pages, and their four-cornered gummed photograph holders that preserve memorable moments and places can tear you up. When a cousin dug out a few of these old photo albums and posted old pictures of our grandparents and parents on social media I was a bundle of mixed emotions.
  My maternal grandparents staring out of the picture reminds me of the gentle and pious folk that they were having left behind a legacy of love and kindness. 'Nana' standing among the pigs that she reared and another one of my uncle chasing a pig for my parents' wedding feast filled me with immense joy and laughter. My parents' wedding pictures - my parents seated in the bridal car, a Fiat that has become history and starkly different from the Tata Estate(that too is off the roads now) that I sat in as a bride. In 1963, Indians did not have much to chose from in terms of cars. The Ambassador, Fiat, Landmaster and Standard Herald were just about what was available. Then there are pictures of my cousins and me in various stages of babyhood, childhood, and adolescence. A family picture of my maternal grandparents with their teenage children just thrilled me. I recognize my mother at once and happily put names to the other aunts and uncle. 
 I very fondly remember my paternal grandmother or 'Pune Nana ' as she was referred to when I look at her pictures surrounded by family. Nana lived by the motto, 'Where there are pains, there are gains', a motto that I remember ever so often, and words which I frequently repeat to my children. 
Time stands still every time you look at a photograph. Distance and time have dimmed the faces, the pictures may have faded but the memories are yours to have and to hold.
School and college photographs evoke similar emotions and can send you on a nostalgic trip all over again. I was lucky to be part of a crazy, happy - go - lucky group in college and there are pictures aplenty that speak of those crazy, happy - go -lucky college days.
 It was back to History, Geography and Maths for my fellow Steel Magnolias and me (class of 1980) when somebody posted pictures of some our bright and beautiful teachers. We did not remember all of them but had a jolly good time remembering the good old days.  
When a dear aunt recently passed on suddenly cousins and I  immediately dug out pictures to relive some happy moments and times that they had shared with her. I hold on to memories of my now 'young adult'sons as babies and young children through heaps of pictures in treasured albums. I am amazed at how swiftly the years have passed and swiftly they have grown into the young men that they are today. It seemed like just yesterday that we were changing diapers and washing feeding bottles. 
 Cell phones with their inbuilt cameras have replaced the old-fashioned camera to a large extent. Hence I was happy to see a friend fish out an old-fashioned pocket camera to click a picture of both of us.
 They say, a picture is worth a thousand words and yes, clicking and looking at pictures both old and new definitely counts as one of the many  'little' joys of life.