So Proud of You.

I was born to middle-class parents who were raised by hard-working and God-fearing ladies and gentlemen. Here, I pay tribute to Mom's side of the family. Mom was the third of nine siblings. Two were taken in their youth. The oldest was a boy and the only son of his parents. Two of the sisters joined the convent, and two remained unmarried.

Nana Dorothy and Papa Joseph raised their nine children in a four-room house in suburban Mumbai, which must not have been quite enough for them. Nana reared pigs and kept poultry in her backyard. Papa worked at the Port Trust and did voluntary work in the church. The church was close to his heart as it was to his home. The family saw some very difficult days but coursed through.  As adults, every one of them was able to fend for themselves. My uncle, Berchmans also my Godfather bought a pressure cooker for his mother with his initial earnings. He stood by the family in thick and thin. Generous to a fault, he spoiled rotten his nieces and nephews plying us with presents and treats.  He was simply such a lovely man. Also very pious, he devoted large chunks of his time to church work. I have vivid memories of him calling the family to recite the rosary at 8.30pm every evening. We sat around the dining table and prayed the rosary. He inculcated in his children Savio and Cheryl Ann values that he stood for.  None of his nieces or nephews called him uncle.  He was godfather to three of us but was called 'Godpa' by the rest of the nieces and nephews. 

My grandmother trained her daughters well. Their housekeeping and cookery skills were more than adept. There was aunta Signa, the oldest daughter who turned out some marvellous chitaps and fugias. (traditional East - Indian fare)  and cooked well. She suffered an amputation of her leg but that never turned her into a 'homebody'. She was up and about doing household chores, engaging in outdoor activities and generally living life to the fullest.  My godmother Majorie generally cooked up a storm in the kitchen and sent our taste buds into a tizzy. Her talents went beyond the kitchen, to the beautifully embroidered cushion covers in the living room and the embroidered bedspreads in the bedroom. She was extroverted, generous and jovial and enjoyed a good laugh.   Aunta Grace was a stickler for neatness and cleanliness and put together some amazing croquettes and cutlets.  Aunta Baby(Bernadette) dished up the worlds best pani puri, while my mom juggled housekeeping with a teaching career and managed to turn out some amazing dishes. Mom also supervised my brother David's and my homework.  She sewed as well as she cooked. I can proudly say that many of my dresses were embroidered and tailored by her.  

The aunties who joined the convent were talented in their own right. Sr. Regina or aunta Rega as we fondly addressed her, who left us a year ago spent a major part of her life in Bangalore and knew how to cook South Indian cuisine like the back of her hand. Generous, kind, and loving she won the hearts of many. Sister Pamela's salads are good-looking and tasty. She makes a mean Cassatta and gives the words 'cut finely' a whole new meaning. I don't know why hwe addressed them as 'aunta' and not 'aunty' but the name stuck as we still refer to them as 'aunta'. 

Aunty Colette, my godfather's wife, a gentle and patient woman was as talented as the rest of the family.  She did magic with Marzipan, fashioning flowers and fruits with her bare hands. They were so beautifully crafted and tasted so good that you stared, drooled and wolfed them down at the same time. An excellent seamstress she tailored many of her own clothes as well as her daughter's.

One by one they passed leaving behind a legacy of virtues, values and talents unsurpassed. My mother and aunty Pam yet keep alive the flame of this wonderful family. 

This tribute would be incomplete if I did not mention my uncles - Uncle Steven, aunta Grace's husband and father of my cousin Sinclair and uncle Constance husband of aunta Signa and father of my cousins, Jude, Cabrini, Belinda and Vanessa. Sadly Jude and Vanessa are no more with us. Jude, your wit is sorely missed.  Both uncles,  Steven and Constance were jolly, honest and upright men and are sorely missed.  Uncle Steven was the life of any party or wedding reception as he shook a leg to Marathi and western tunes with equal aplomb. and sang the night away. Uncle Constance will be remembered for his kindness and humour as much as for his pork roast and chicken lollipops. Last but not the least, was my dad - a big burly man with a song on his lips who claimed that he had met my mom while he was on his way to the seminary. I guess dad seriously  believed that laughter was the medicine as he kept us in splits. 

Buzzing Along.

Easter 2017 will be rather memorable. Two members of the family namely my significant other and our younger son had their pockets picked and cell phones were stolen. Like many of his generation this19-year-old is a 'phoney.' He eats, sleeps and breathes his cell phone. He was like a cat on a hot tin roof when the phone went missing. No sooner had he lodged the routine police complaint did he start making arrangements to buy a new one.When I say arrangements, I mean monetary arrangements - He did not need any assistance in choosing a new phone. His father was not too thrilled about the idea of purchasing a new phone so very quickly and suggested that he use the discarded tablet. Our young man was adamant. The tablet did not meet his needs and a new phone with a memory as big as an elephant was what he needed. Grandmothsr and mother together with a  dip into the young man's  nest egg have contributed to RED ME note 4 by Xiaomi.through a flash sale. 

I fondly remember the jet black rotary phone or landline perched on a shelf in the living room of the house that  I grew up in. We were one of few families who had the good fortune of having a phone at home.The phone was a source of absolute joy - We called relatives and friends, dad booked work related trunk calls from that phone, I spent some idyllic hours in teenage chatter on the machine and recall dad sternly asking me to hang up. The neighbours made calls and we received calls for the neighbours. 

There was gloom when the phone went out of order because restoring it back to working condition took awhile. A neighbour would have to register a complaint from his/ her phone and more often than not it was a game of patience and a few more calls till the phone worked again. 

  The phone helped you to speak to and hear from your near and dear ones. There was no question of family disintegration or addiction. Even today  we could be perfectly happy and healthy as long as we control the use of the cell phone rather than let the cell phone control our lives.