Wednesday, June 10, 2020

VIRTUAL REALITY

This is my Corner, No entry- It is My Space

“Not anymore, Ma” they laugh in My Face!

My laptop/ my baby on which I design and write…

 “I won’t share with you both!” I hopelessly fight.

 

The Class begins at sharp Nine!

“Wake Up” we scream, you need to be “Online”

The teacher sends a link, we join on ZOOM!

Oh My God, I realize! They can see my Room…..

Scrambling to clear up the mess- toys, clothes,

Within seconds- “kapoot” the video goes!

 

Log in, log out, repeatedly we try

Completely bewildered my son and I.

The phone rings- others as perplexed, “Thank God!”

Technicalities solved, school prayer begins-“Praise the Lord!”

“Mute/Unmute”, unmute and again mute – Is this a Game?

“Shhhh, Ma- I must speak only when ma’am calls my Name”.

 

The story gets better as the younger one takes her seat

She feels like a queen, she’s got her hands on my Tablet.

“Don’t drop it”, “Be careful”, “It’s not a TOY”!

Wipe the sweat on my forehead -feel I’ve run a mile- “Oh Boy”!

 

Assignments posted on Google Classroom- What’s THAT?

Figuring out this takes a while- when it’s done I pat my back.

“Bye Bye” says the Teacher- they are done for the Day!

See you all tomorrow -Virtual Reality it’s here to stay!!

 


Sunday, May 31, 2020

THE GIRL FROM THE NORTH

 

“Mamma, are we Hindi?” Stumped!!!

Before I could even fathom how to reply pat goes the first brat “Yes we are Hindi, right Mom?”

Why do you two always ask such difficult questions, I moan!! “It’s so easy mom” We are not Tamil right, so we are Hindi! Everyone in school calls me that.”

That’s another stunner! I didn’t know these kids faced this discrimination at such young ages. Miss Naïve right? How could they not be a part of this great divide? It’s all around us.

“Hindi is a language that we speak”, I say.  You both hardly speak any Hindi too. How can you be a language?”

“So, WHAT are we then?” they ask in unison. I think I need a paracetemol here!!

Cut to a dozen or more years back when I moved to Chennai, South India.

“You’re North Indian, right?”

“I’m from Mumbai”

“North Indian, da” a colleague would say introducing me.

Again I’d clarify- “I’m from Mumbai”. I could be talking to bare walls and it would have pretty much the same impact- Zilch!

On the west coast of India and almost half way up is Mumbai, the gateway to both North and South India. The co- ordinates are 19.0760° N, 72.8777° E. That is the geographical location but to anyone from Tamil Nadu- Any person who doesn’t belong to the 4 Southern states of Tamil Nadu, Kerala, Karnataka and Andhra Pradesh; include Telangana now is, ‘A NORTH INDIAN.’

A few days back a lady in my apartment block asked me- “Hey did I introduce you to that friend of mine-She is from your place… just like you.”

“Yes you did.  She’s from Surat, Gujarat.”

“Yeah! Just like you North Indian.”

So here goes- “I am a North Indian”. When you can’t beat them… join them.

 

A funny thing I noticed which I never did before was when I went back home after my marriage. The same distinction existed everywhere. Anyone who belongs to the 4 or 5 Southern states mentioned above was called a “MADRASI “.

You’ve become a madrasi! My cousins would tease me when I professed my love for idlis and Nei Dosa.

The kids are teased each time we travel to Mumbai! Their attempts to converse with the other apartment kids in their anglicised and accented hindi makes them “Madrasis”!  Hindi here, Madrasi there…. They ought to be confused!!

 

“We are Sindhis” – I begin to explain but give up as the origin of Sindh being in Pakistan brings out a contemptuous- “I’m not Pakistani!!” “Never”! That’s sorted… or still unsorted!!

Born in Bengal, brought up in Mumbai and married into the South. I am like my country- diverse and unique. The Victoria Memorial, Gateway of India and Marina Beach are all special with beautiful memories. There are so many like me. I meet them every day. They’ve grown to love their sambhar rice with ghee and podi as much as they love curry chawal and aloo parantha. We blend so well and yet stand apart…

I only wince a bit when I’m called something that I am not-The Girl from the North.

 


Saturday, May 9, 2020

A Mother's Love

                                                           

     MOTHER’S LOVE

A Love so Profound

Mere words cannot say,

A big THANK YOU!

I say on this Mother’s Day.

Been a while since

You left us Mom,

Can still feel your presence

Every night, every morn…                                         

In my darkest hours

You hold the light.

Your smile, your face

That loving embrace…


Would give anything

To again hug you tight!                                 

One more time, just one

I wish you’d say my name!

HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY Ma,

FOREVER in my heart you remain.

 

“LOVE”- The most overused of all words and emotions. I however, learnt to love from my Mother. My mother wanted a boy and when I was born it seems she wept uncontrollably to the extent that her aunt offered to take me away.  “NEVER, she’s mine” shouted my mom and snatched me back into her arms…That love and possessiveness was in every thought, action and gesture towards me then on. From you Mom I learnt to Love- Possessive and Intense LOVE.

Hate- the other powerful emotion that determines our life choices. “I hate lies and Liars” mom would say while professing truth and honesty. From you mom I learnt to hate- the negative and the Deceitful.

 Hard work, Perseverance and Kindness- all I learnt from you Ma. She wouldn’t give up, though others around her had quit.

My marriage alliance fixed by her I strongly opposed-“I won’t move to the South”! Soon I thanked her. A more loving, kind and supporting partner I could have never found. The love of my life- My Mom gave to me.

My own journey to motherhood was difficult- Unsuccessful infertility treatments at Mumbai, Pune and Chennai- all of which my mother never accompanied me to. “Leave it,” she said. “Have faith. It moves mountains”. Only when I followed her advice and gave up on everything but faith- My “miracle boy" happened.  Undying Faith- in myself and The Almighty. You gave me Mom.

Everything I am today or hope to be- I owe it to my Mom, my Angel.  Selfless, unconditional and overflowing that is a mother’s love.

As I raise my two darlings each day I realize how much my mum sacrificed for us and how much she cared. Only when we become mothers ourselves do we truly value our moms. To my strength, inspiration and my life giver… Thank you Mom always!


                                                                                                                     

 

 


Wednesday, April 29, 2020

SUGAR AND SPICE


SUGAR AND SPICE & all that’s, NICE?

                  I hate Cooking. Period. Not because it’s messy and sweaty but because of the very monotony of it! Chop and clean, roast and fry, roll out the dough and heaven knows what more…
      On most days I keep my cooking simple, or rather I let the cook handle it! A cook is a luxury which I give myself- not because I can’t cook or my family demands elaborate meals- the kids are paltry peckers… But to ensure SOME freedom from the four confining, imprisoning walls of the KITCHEN!
                   My grouse with the entire cooking story is the total perfunctory nature of the outcome. A well prepared three or 5 course meal could take anywhere from a few hours to a few days to prepare. Once laid on the table it doesn’t take more than a half hour or so for the food to be devoured. That’s it! Kaput! Gone for good through the mouth to the esophagus into the stomach and then the intestines to be digested and finally excreted… Ughhh!! To put in so much effort into an activity and the result is “shit”. Quite literally!!
                  The time taken for preparation is on a general note inversely proportional to the consumption time. The more elaborate a dish to prepare, the better it tastes and the faster it’s finished. For example the mutton galouti kabab which I, obviously don’t know how to make but presumably takes about 9 hours to cook...When done the right way. Put it in your mouth- hmmmm, it melts... in less than 9 seconds. Shazam!!
     Compare this to a fresh salad which I make often within minutes- wash and tear few lettuce leaves fine, add some cucumber, onion, carrots and tomatoes- all diced coarsely and toss in some salt and pepper- mix it well on the way to the table and you can munch it for a good 15 minutes or more while watching your favourite web series and - All that munching is good exercise for your facial muscles too!
                   If I were given 9 hours here’s what I’d do- four hours to cook a week’s meal (my limit) and the other 5 hours- Mine! Let’s dedicate an hour a day at a stretch each evening with the kids and we’d have a well written piece by the elder one and a well-drawn masterpiece by the younger one!! Or else- divide the five hours into an hour a day, five days a week at a high intensity zumba class!! 2 inches off the waist and super energy through the weekend. Sounds good?
    I guess you all think I’m very lazy and my kids are always junking! That’s far from the truth. When it comes to task organization - cooking takes priority on my list. Surprised? I like to finish it as soon as possible like a bitter, dreadful spoon of medicine that must be gulped down for recovery. A clean and spotless kitchen in the morning would inspire most women to wonderful thoughts of the culinary delights they could create. I rush to see the calendar if it’s a sacred day like Satyanarayan and if we could all fast till night- So the spotless kitchen can stay that way- beautiful and bright! Hardly ever get that lucky though!
    To my younger brat the sight of her mum in the kitchen when she wakes up each morning is very reassuring. She calls me “The Cooker” and wants to become a “cooker” just like me when she grows up! Is that a compliment?? Anyways, I guess to all of us our fondest childhood memories are of the food that our moms made or make. Home is where the best dal chawal/rajma chawal or mooli paranthas come from. Food has such a hold on our emotions- we long for the taste of the Pav bhaji sold outside Elco market, that Ravioli from my first date at the expensive Italian joint, the gatte ki sabji prepared by mom etc., etc. I guess that is all that cooking leaves you with- few fond memories. Nothing very tangible- it must be recreated every single time. You are a great cook- how do I believe it until I taste your culinary expertise?
         The latest obsession of women/men inclined to spending long hours in creating elaborate exotic delicacies is Food Photography. They click pictures or get them professionally clicked of the dishes prepared and post it on WhatsApp groups and on their Instagram accounts. I think it makes the whole monotonous and boring affair a little worthwhile when you get comments and likes for the pictures. I’ve done it too! Frustrated after a long day of teaching the kids during national Lockdown period I decided to try my hand at homemade rasgulla. After the ordeal we clicked pictures of the pretty fluffy white balls soaked in sugar syrup and posted them on Insta and WA groups. The likes and comments that “the picture” received made me feel fabulous. The next day another friend put similar pictures of rasgullas she’d made and I can’t even sue for plagiarism!!!  Now you know why I dislike cooking?
     Mankind’s obsession with food has given rise to thousands of cuisines from all across the globe. Gluttony is a sin that is so revered by Humans, it is cause to a large extent of the world’s population of diabetes, hypertension and cancer patients. Long hours of standing and cooking gives varicose veins to most Indian women including my mother. From my perspective cooking is a necessity. I cook (simple and quick) to keep my family and me healthy and nourished. Indulgences are left to probably once or twice a month.
     Please, to all of you who love to cook- to all the chefs extraordinaire who’ve made careers in the field - I ask your forgiveness. You have my highest respect and admiration. It is you who give us mothers a much needed break when we can officially shut the kitchen and go dine out. You do what I long to never do. At a recent party as the birthday boy’s face was smashed into the cake, my heart went out to the person who’d laboriously created that beautiful double layered chocolate dream. Alas, no one else shared my pity…
   While on a trekking excursion few years back all that kept us going in our journey to the peak were cups of hot tea with paranthas and of course maggi! That’s what I insist and believe- to those who aim to reach the zenith of whichever peak they choose- keep the cooking simple and move on.. For the other lucky ones who have nowhere to go- You are welcome to the overwhelming world of sugar and spice, and all that’s really nice!


Saturday, March 28, 2020

Missing Monday


Missing Monday
Oh Sunday! for you we wait!
No worries, alarms, sleep till late...
It’s on Sunday that at home we laze,
Far away from the outside bustling craze.

The maids won’t come, it’s their day off!
Dishes, mopping, I’m the maid today I scoff!
Keep the cooking simple or let’s order in
We manage well, the kids and mister all pitch in!

Catching up on the weekly news, read and chat.
Bonding with the kids, fun, games and all that…
When the evening comes we feel all glum,
Life must move back to the beat of the drum.

That’s the way the story goes…. TILL one day,
Beware! It’s the virus scare- at home all MUST stay!
Yippee! No routine, no alarms and no meetings,
Short-lived euphoria and soon creep in irksome feelings.
I want to go out and play,
I can’t watch this news all day!
I can’t do so much work alone...
All fed up- each has a different groan!

Hope this Virus gets up and goes away…
Fervently for a vaccine we pray!
Is it going to be forever Sunday?
Please do return we miss you Monday.









Tuesday, March 24, 2020

Carrom Once More- Memories



“Munch that bite! There won’t be any ice-cream, any television ever: If you don’t finish this meal!!”

This is ME- three times a day, every day, day after day….– If not any life threatening pandemic, but just forcing healthy food at regular intervals down these wretched mouths- Will see the end of me, I’m sure!
Just a few days into the kids’ Summer Vacation – they’ve begun early this year- and I’m losing my sanity. Repeated errors while typing this too.
2 kids at home- awake for 12 or more hours at a stretch. They need to be fed, bathed, and fed again!
Entertained, occupied, kept out of mischief, kept indoors (the corona virus effect) and most important of all- healthy and happy! It’s a piece of cake! I tell myself every morning- rising by 6 a.m. sharp- earlier than school days!!! Just so I can get some time to myself before the monsters awaken.
11”o” clock at night and I’m still a dictionary- “Mamma, what does m-a-n-s-i-o-n mean?”
“It’s a place I want to run to…. So big I can hide from you, At least for a day or two! “
Don’t make up rhymes Ma, please, tell me the meaning….  Ha! Piece of cake!

As the afternoon laziness sets in- I remember I used to love summer afternoons, lying next to my mom, under the breeze of the fan, I can still smell her skin... My arms curled around her bare midriff from the sari she wore. HOW WONDERFUL those days of growing up were. SUDDENLY my midriff is attacked as she playfully jumps on it –“Let’s play rock a bye baby!”
“OUCH!!  You’re not a baby anymore!” I wince in agony…. But the girl won’t budge till we play rock a bye baby... 20 kilograms rocking up and down my legs- 50 reps. It’s a fabulous workout for the abs, but not post lunch!!
Another invention by this creature to entertain herself is “Catch Me If You Can! She runs around in circles around the dining table and I must catch her while she giggles and squeals at the top of her lungs! The neighbours downstairs came up one day worried whether some wild dogs had been let loose!!!. We apologized, stopped the game for a day all shamefaced and bashful but were back at it soon[H1] ! J

Today is puzzle solving day. Down come the old puzzle boxes neatly stacked up 3 years ago waiting for the younger one to play with them. As obvious, there are a few pieces missing.  “This is what you both did when I was not there, right? You just lost all the puzzle pieces. “Boy to girl- “No, we kept all the puzzles carefully for you.”
Girl to mom – “That’s why you prayed for me no, and I came”...  
Mom to girl- “I didn’t pray for you, I prayed for bhaiya”
“Then How Did I Come?”
I burst into helpless laughter –Isn’t this question coming too early? The kids however, ignore their mom rolling on the floor with laughter and continue to piece the puzzle together. They’re used to their mother suddenly bursting into laughter at some innocent remark they make: Into a song at the drop of a familiar word or phrase and definitely used to her breaking into a jig on hearing a song she loves. I am, losing my sanity as confessed before.

This summer has taken such a different turn. I had it all planned. 8.30a.m. - 9.30 a.m. swimming classes: Come back home for breakfast and shower, send the kids down to the club house for activity classes till 1. Gives me time to cook lunch and clean the house. After lunch we relax. At 5.30 p.m. tennis classes for an hour. Within that 1 hour I get to plan the packing and shopping for our annual summer holiday. Well sorted, or so I thought……
The classes stand cancelled, the holiday plan is definitely off and here we are together all summer, stuck at HOME!!

As the long summer days pan out I can’t stop getting nostalgic.  My mind wanders back to my childhood summer vacations which were all about lounging at home just like this. I recall the afternoons spent playing carrom board with cousins. My eldest bro and I, the youngest were a team invincible! The expert paired with me- butterfingers still learning the game. Indoor Ping Pong tournaments at home. With the dining table moved to the verandah and hardbound books placed at the center to form the net. Glasses of refreshing Rasna would be served to all at the end. “I LOVE YOU RASNA”. Don’t forget to sing as you gulp the last of the orange tangy drink. The taste still lingering on my tongue even as I write. No matter how strictly we were forbidden we’d still naughtily creep up to the refrigerator repeatedly to check if the homemade ice-cream had set. Fight to get that extra scoop!
Monopoly was the favourite pastime activity with the each game continuing for days- As kids we’d have dreams of one day owning those hotels at Bond Street, Regent Street and Piccadilly etc. How ambitious!
Amongst all the toys my most loved possession was a beautiful Barbie doll. I’d sew skirts, tops and dresses for her from fabric borrowed from Mom. The passion for fashion, was born then. Thank you Barbie, I miss you…
As kids we used to read books by the dozen: A competition would be held among friends as to who would read the maximum number of books before school reopened in June. St. Clare’s and Malory Towers by Enid Blyton sparked my imagination taking me to their English country homes and boarding schools full of learning, mischief and adventure. I guess that’s why we didn’t miss holidays to foreign locations unlike our kids today who plan among each other at school the next exotic destination where they would be headed for the summer, long before their parents plan.
Remember dancing to audio and video tapes of Madonna’s- La Isla Bonita and Stevie Wonder’s- Part Time Lover? “It’s My Life”- sang Bon Jovi and I from morning to night, giving us the rebel my parents struggled with!!

 Those walks down Marine Drive on beautiful summer evenings, those nights of sleepovers at friends’ and cousins’ with tall glasses of mango milkshake and naturals ice-cream, fun at Juhu beach and shopping at Bandra, Fashion street and much, much, more…

Memories of childhood so beautifully curated by parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and friends. I wish we could recreate that magic for our kids today.
Come on kids- “Carrom once more.” Let the Memories, bring back memories…!





 [H1]

Life is Beautiful

The 1997  Oscar winning film  ‘ Life is Beautiful “ starring  Roberto Benigni   was based on the holocaust. The blackest chapter in Human h...