Ambling along.

Deep heat is what we have been experiencing for the past couple of months. May 2017 will draw to a close in another few days and the countdown to the great Indian Monsoon will begin if it has not yet begun. On the international front, May 2017 was marked by President Donald Trump's visit to Israel and the suicide bombing in Manchester.How many more lives are to be lost before peace prevails? What kind of high does taking a life give you? Some demented people spreading fear and terror, cutting short precious lives..Closer home India continues to fight for the life of one of her sons.Have mercy on us, dear Lord!

Your mother is the first person in your life. She gives birth to you and then raises you the best of her ability. You may argue and fight but she remains your closest confidante. A once strong and active woman, now in her 81st year is frail and tired. She moves slowly  and speaks softly and is unsure most of the time. She is happy to be around her grandsons.They tell her to have a 'chill - pill' She dotes on them and they dote on her. She loves reading the newspaper and generally reads it from start to end.  You cannot quite accept the person that she is today. She rode a luna, stitched your clothes, cooked your food, took up your lessons, got you married and helped you raise your sons.

You try hard to convince yourself that ageing is inevitable and the changes that you see are inevitable. Nevertheless, she is the first person in your life and you must be grateful and thankful for the time you spent with her and are spending with her. Incidentally, mothers were honoured on the  14th of May. The offspring did not have a clue about the day. Boys will be boys. My friend's son remembered and wished her at lunch. "Better late than never," I say.

Someone remarked that we hand write very little these days and that someone was so right. Besides the odd cheque and a few grocery lists, what is there to write. Typing and texting are more like it. All the typing and texting has taken a toll on the handwriting. Today I am not very proud of my writing. Schools generally lay a lot of emphasis on handwriting and the school I attended was no different. I vividly remember being given pages of copywriting in a grade as high as 9. There were those red and blue lined copywriting books and your writing had to touch the lines. Are they still in use? 

The Scent of Summer

  May is drawing to a close and a blazing sun is scorching the city. The temperature is soaring and city folk are complaining. All through April, May and June we go 'blah, blah, blah' until the heavens burst open in June. However, with the romance of the rain, we have to contend with waterlogging slush,  muck and other problems. 
 Both school and college kids are currently on a well-deserved summer break. The soft drink and ice cream companies are reaping huge profits. The health-conscious though prefer to stick to good old chaas. (buttermilk) Quite a few Mumbaikars are reclining in cooler climes. The rest are being roasted and toasted in the summer sun.

The king of fruits is reigning supreme as fruit stalls and markets wear a golden yellow hue. The best news of all has been delivered by a popular nutritionist who has waxed eloquently on the nutritional benefits of the  Mango. "Exercising a little restraint, eat to your heart's content" he says. It's got fibre, it's got vitamin C, so indulge! From Aamras and puri for breakfast, aam ki launji and a variety of mango pickles,  and mango milkshakes we are a mango-happy nation delighting in the succulent fruit all summer. The watermelon is also loved by most and from sinking your teeth into the juicy fruit, you can use it in a salad with cucumber and feta cheese and drinks. 

Summer brings on the heat, sweat grime and a steep increase in your power bills but summer has a lesson for us all in that how to remain cool when life becomes too hot to handle. 

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. 

Of Empty Nests and Blissful Weekends.

March4th, 2017
 A weekend.A blissful'nothing - to -do take  - it -easy ' in the air.Easter is around the corner.  The employed generally catch up with household chores and the unemployed take a dive from the bore and chore that is housekeeping
I recently read a mother's blog about the empty nest syndrome and it sent me on a trip of my own.

Kids are my favourite people. I wanted 4 but stopped at 2. However, I cannot claim to be the perfect mother. I have been far from perfect.  21 years ago Significant - Other and I  were beside ourselves raising 2 boys. Like many grandmas,   their grandma too pitched in.  Today the bond between the grandkids and grandma is cast in iron.

I get all teary eyed and nostalgic as I leaf through the albums - baby pictures, school pictures, vacation pictures, fancy dress. There are so many memories and so many moments jostling for space in my heart and despite a tight squeeze, each memory and moment is gift wrapped and treasured and finds a place and is opened on dull dreary days.    I am reminded of Khalil Gibran beautiful verses on children...
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you...

Yes, they do not belong to me. They are creatures of independent body, soul and mind. I must let go for if I do not, I do not love them. There will be less stuff in the cupboards and drawers.  Our wallets may feel fuller and the laundry basket will look leaner. I will not have to tear my hair over the day's menu and break my head over what to pack in the lunch box and I  must find ways and means to fill that vacuum in my heart and mind until the next message, visit or call. 

Night

When the light of day softly fades away
When that flaming ball of fire is all set to retire
When children hasten home after play
When tweet and chirp fly home yonder
When bright city lights dispel the darkness of the night
When the star spangled skies are a delight to the eyes
When moonbeams cast a silvery sheen. 
When work is done and the day’s race is run
When we whisper a little prayer-
Thank you dear God, for your love and care.
Your blessings we seek everyday, everywhere! 

And Life Goes On.

March 2nd,2017

Yesterday, the first day of a new month began on a spiritual note followed by lean meals all the day long. The significant  - other had rustled up some delicious dahi baath(curd - rice) while I cooked a dish of egg fried rice for the heirs to the throne. The teenager did not appreciate the egg fried rice and said that he felt he was consuming Jain food. I guess the rice turned out a little too bland for his 'spicy loving palate'.
The twenty-year-old, though a member of the youth choir is not very spiritually inclined, or so he says and had to be pushed to hear mass yesterday. I wonder for how long more I can push. Not being spiritually inclined is a malady affecting many young people these days.
My attempt at making aloo parathas for the boys' breakfast was nothing to write home about. The aloo mash turned out to be a soggy mess,  then there was no dhania - hubby dear had used the garnish(corriander leaves) to garnish something else.  This I was blissfully ignorant of and I sensed a sliver of irritation go up my spine. These little inconveniences are just something a homemaker has to learns to live with. There will always be that missing ingredient which you have to dash down tote shop in the corner.  Anyway, there I was at 9.30pm last night, gingerly rolling out the parathas, desperately trying to prevent the aloo mix from spilling out. Yes, why did I undertake this cumbersome task  the night before? I am not an early riser and cooking in the early hours is just not my cup of tea! I managed a few but this morning the verdict from the twenty year was far from good - All my trouble in vain.I am waiting for verdict no.2.
The rest of the day will see me tackling mundane chores and life goes on. .

Shrove Tuesday.

Feb 28th, 2017 , 6.38pm.

The last day of February dawned with clear blue skies and a nice bright sun.  It also happened to be Shrove or pancake Tuesday. Shrove is derived from the word Shrive meaning 'absolution of sin. It is also called Fat Tuesday because we use up the fatty foods before the season of lent. The actual tradition of mixing up the ingredients for pancakes  is said to be a pagan ritual. Some beg to differ and say that it is a Christian tradition with each ingredient representing the 4 aspects of Christian faith. 

 As the light dims the birds can be heard chirping on  their way home.A peace must gradually descend on the land but the bright city lights will shine late into the night.