TALES Of A TRIBE and their Tamasha

 

“Mamma, she called me- STUPID and a BAD GIRL!”

Oh no! Not again!! “Please don’t go down to play with her” I say.

A simple dialogue from me is met with a HUGE uproar by my kids….almost seems like it’s the beginning of an earthquake.

MAN is a social animal and likewise little men and women too. Our kids cannot live without meeting their apartment friends and their daily dose of quarreling and making up is mandatory.

We live in a big community or a Tribe as I call it- 4 blocks of about 150 apartments with 100 families all living harmoniously- or maybe not completely in harmony… but pretty much happily coexisting OR…. Well, you get the picture right? So let’s begin…

Why a TRIBE?-   I call it so because like in a tribe, here too we have a Headman, a Chieftain, The Head Priestess, The Sorcerer, The Warriors, The Spies, The Traders etc. All take their self-assigned roles seriously and perform tasks so all the community members benefit. HA HA!!

 

Each morning, my day begins with the alarm of the “Chirping Birds”. No, this is not a ringtone on my smartphone - but it is the sound of pleasant chatter of a group of Ladies who walk and talk around the 4 blocks. They have excellent stamina and complete a one hour routine daily.

As I step down, ambling along to pick up the milk from the gate- I’m greeted by the “Girl Gang”. This is the young bunch of pretty fitness enthusiasts who jog or cycle all around the blocks. They perform Surya Namaskar and Vajra asana in the park and also do a self-choreographed Zumba routine! Their smiling exuberant faces could brighten up even your dullest mornings.

On the way to the main compound entrance I exchange pleasantries with other passersby- some in their lazy stupor like me: some heading to work and others who are just taking in the sun. We all observe one other and judge the way each person walks, looks and behaves. Mr. V looks incredibly forlorn – did he have another fight with his wife last night? Iyer Uncle and his dog have an extra spring in their step… whatever could be the matter?? Wondering, I carry on.

 

A bright and bustling bazaar awaits me at the Entrance. A motley group of residents are gathered around the Vegetable Vendor Van and the “Keerai Lady”.

Whatsapp messages are updated on the community group informing everyone about their arrival.

The bright ladies and a few gentlemen queue to buy their stock of healthy greens and fresh vegetables and meanwhile also exchange recipes. We all knows what’s cooking in whose kitchen for lunch that day. A perfect start to your day with a dollop of greens and gossip!

 

In the sunny afternoons you won’t see much common activity except for the Housekeeping Staff who would be cleaning the staircases, lifts and common area. Now THEY are the real backbone of the Tribe. These very important ladies also know what is conspiring in each house mind you! Who is seeing whom, who is quarreling with whom etc., they are aware of ALL which the rest of us are not.

Their leader is the “Handyman” of the Tribe. He is your go to man for anything and everything under the Apartment Sun. He is available 24*7 but mind you, don’t ever rub him the wrong way!

 

The Evening brings everyone out of their homes. Children run down to play in the park or the clubhouse. Cycling enthusiasts speed around the compound. The beautiful breeze gets young and old all into a carefree fun mood. All the different groups or clans appear. The paatis sit and exchange their daily woes on the park bench. The extremely fit uncles walk in duos never missing their evening walks together. The ladies walking groups are set and airtight. You cannot break into any group or merge into another by unwritten law.

Young mothers who bring their toddlers down for their playtime are happy as they chat with other mums. Each of them struggling with their “just kids and home” routine.

Everyone loves the little friendly kid who is the youngest member of the tribe and a real Darling. The day she hurt her head while playing near the swing everyone was upset. Anxious families visited the little girl bringing her sweets and good wishes. Everyone prayed for her speedy recovery.

Any mishap or illness in any particular house brings the Tribe together. All try and help the affected family in their own possible ways. We even have common prayer meets organized to generate positivity.

 

WHAT’S THAT? A loud noise coming from the direction of the Clubhouse. 

The commotion is regarding a glass table that has been smashed to pieces. The question is by whom?

Some kids were seen playing there a while ago. Their names are called out. The kids obviously deny it. Their parents are summoned. They are defensive and the blame game starts! The quarrel moves in a tangent with respective forefathers and lineage called in.

“You don’t know the family I come from!” shouts an enraged man.

“You don’t know how many factories I have... I could buy the likes of you within minutes!!!”

They could have gone to blows had some non-participating others not intervened. Phew!!!

The matter goes on for a week with full tamasha. The CCTV footage reveals nothing as the camera was not working. “Thank God “I say.

It’s really “Thank God” as the upcoming Ganesh Chaturthi festival helps to restore peace and calm back in the Tribe.

The common Ganesh Temple situated beneath the Peepal tree is beautifully decorated. All the men, women and children step down in their finest to seek the Elephant Lord’s blessings. The sweet prasadam distributed brings cheer and smiles on everyone’s faces. Beautiful Bhajans are sung by children dressed like princesses. Everyone joins in to chant Jai Ganesha!

God bless the Tribe! May their tales and tamasha continue unabated.

 

TO THE MOON and BACK

 

“It’s the Moon Puja right, Ma?”! “Yes, it is…It’s Teejri”

“THE MOON FESTIVAL - LET”S CELEBRATE!!!” NORTH, NORTH WEST, EAST, SOUTH EAST- WE’LL TAKE OUR COMAPSS TO THE TERRACE AND CHECK WHERE THE MOON IS COMING OUT FROM!!”

Oh! What excitement in their innocent minds. The only thing that my kids remember of this very authentic Sindhi festival is how the entire family eagerly awaits the appearance of the moon in the cloudy monsoon sky. It is indeed the highlight of Teejri which is a poor cousin of the more popular Karva Chauth.

 

Every year around the beginning of August in the Hindu month of Saavan comes the festival of Teejri. Married women fast through the day and pray for the health and prosperity of their husbands. It is a strict fast wherein merely liquids like tea, coffee, rose milk are allowed. Only after offering prayers to the moon at night can the ladies eat a meal.

Do you think that just by fasting annually we can ensure long and healthy lives of our husbands? Hardly so, but there is power in prayer and I’d say one special day in our busy year to pray for our men is alright!

 "It’s only demanded of women to pray and fast? Why don’t husbands skip meals and stay hungry for their wives?” I’d always ask… The answer I now know-

 They CAN’T that’s why. A few years ago Mister did try only to give up by LUNCHTIME- retiring with a “splitting headache”!!

 

Personally, I celebrate Teejri to enjoy the ceremony of “Asur”. Asur is a meal that fasting women consume between 4 a.m. to 5a.m. on the day of Teej. As I sit with my chai and koki, I see my Mum sitting beside me. She was there on my first Teej fast after our wedding. She lovingly looked on as I devoured the delicious meal she’d cooked. The importance of eating something filling at this early hour on fasting day was grilled in by her.

My next reason is mehendi. Each year we get together with friends and call a professional to apply henna on our hands. This is a tradition and is said to be auspicious. This year we had “AATMANIRBHAR” mehendi due to the corona pandemic. We all applied the mehendi for ourselves in our homes. Each girl shared the picture of her beautifully decorated hand on WhatsApp. What better way to bond. This bonding and shared celebration is also a reason why we fast on Teejri!!

 

The last and probably the strongest reason is to challenge myself. “You please don’t fast, you’ll spoil your health”- says Mister.

“I CAN do it, don’t worry”. I doubt my words but say them very confidently!

IT’S 12 p.m. – the kids’ torturous online classes are done. No headache still! Fingers crossed we move to Lunchtime. I lay the lunch on the table and the smell of delicious food is tempting, but I overcome it. Evening comes and I’ve survived. After the Katha you can’t sip a drop of water till you spot the moon. We feed the kids their dinner and head to the park downstairs.

It’ pouring! “Rush inside, we’ll all get drenched.”

An hour goes by. The rain is incessant and obviously there is no sight of the moon.

“Moon please come fast so my Mom can eat”- with folded hands and eyes closed tight the little girl prays fervently.

“It’s the rain” says the first brat. “It must stop for the moon to be visible”

“Please God make the rain stop so the Moon can appear fast and Mamma can eat”

Hands clasped tight they both send an earnest prayer in chorus. NO LUCK.

It continues to pour. We head up home to tuck them in.

It’s past their bedtime.  “Mamma, will you sleep hungry?” asks the little one.

 

I don’t reply –I’m feeling faint…

The phone rings just then- “Meeta, It’s coming out!!”

A dash to the terrace this time.

 

Lo and behold there it appears- the beautiful moon!

WE stare at it in wonderous worship and pray- As our eyes meet, I ponder if this is where the phrase comes from? –“I Love You to the MOON and Back!”

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!!

 

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.

 

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!

                                                                                                                     

 

 

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!