A helping hand….

Since I was a child

Mum and Me - 1983

I had a dream

To write a book.

What kind of story always plagued me.

The dream never materialised.

I had an idol, a mentor, a friend,

A mother

Known far and wide for her magical hands and delicious food.

I found my clarity. I wanted to write a cook book.

Her cook book.

I wanted to honour her legacy. I wanted to save her legacy for me.

For the day I would need to cook.

For the day her grandchildren and grandnephews and nieces would make her food for me.

It was about her and me.

More about me.

I thought it was a brainwave. A unique idea.

I turned to the only person I knew who could help make it happen.

Little did I know my aunt had been working on the same thought for years.

At first it broke my heart.

Annoyed me.

My unique idea was not so unique.

My book, not mine.

Her reasons were different from mine

Monisha & Vasu - 1988-89?

but possibly the same?

To honour her mother, her aunts and uncles, her food?

She was the baby in her generation; I am the baby in mine. 

It may not be true, but that’s what I want to believe.  

Her food – my food

My food her food,

is it not but the same?

Of the invisible family ties that persevered through decades and generations,

Was the only constant thread the taste of our food?

Ego didn’t matter. Accolades either.

It wouldn’t be my best seller. It would be even better.

It would be a personal tribute.

The dream changed. The timeline too.

It should have been completed in her lifetime.

I thought time was not the issue,

There was ample time.

The pace of gathering material and stories crawled along over years

It did not worry me.

It would be done. It would be completed.

Even my dedication.

if I had the chance to add one, was decided.

And when I was looking at other things, the hour glass emptied.

Time ran out.

I gave up on my dream.

My aunt’s desire to fulfil hers grew stronger.

However, the book will materialise.

The dream will be fulfilled.

For all the smallies who came after me

Iona, Nayantara, Abhay, Zoya, Ishaan, Isabella, Jasmer, Saba, and Vasundhara too.

For all their smallies who will come.

From being the baby, Moni is the aunt

And in time has become a grand aunt too.

From being the baby I am an aunt

and in time will become a grand aunt too.

Life doesn’t stop.  Change is the only constant.

This book will be the anchor.

The food will remain unchanged.    

Her food will continue to heal our souls.

A moment too late…

Chocolate Fudge

I’ve said this before – I don’t cook, I run far from any hard work in the kitchen, no smelling fruit to see if ripe or sweet, no sifting grain to check for keedhas, no washing vegetables to make salads and such. And yet, each and every memory of mine involves food. The smell of freshly baking bread…. Her at the table surrounded with bottles of Worcestershire sauce, Tabasco, Tomato sauce, Vinegar, Soy sauce - mixing, dabbling, tasting like she was making some magical potion. Truth be told , it was magical, an explosion of flavor and colour be it for spare ribs, or the butter filling for a chicken–a-la-Kiev;  salad dressing or home-made mayonnaise; her famous fudge to be distributed to many on Diwali or packed off for her nephew Jasmer in Indore.  Some smells were not so pleasant to me but oh how the dogs would go crazy … a brain wave of hers if I stand correct, nutritious liver biscuits for her 4 legged children baking in the oven.

Barbeque Spare Ribs 

There were only 2 places where this magic took place…. The dining table – mixing pots, steel bartans, bottles and ingredients all laden on the table or sitting on her bed with each surface covered with raisins and candy peel being cut, cleaned , chopped and whisked off to make room for dry fruits and other such!

And when not laden with ingredients she would be sitting there with her old recipe book, spectacles on the tip of her nose, patiently repeating instructions or changes in quantities depending on the number of expected and unexpected guests, add-ons to fuse in for a bit of a variation, what to be kept out depending on individual quirks...if Kuckoo chacha was coming then it had to be Pudina ka chutney no daniya in anything, while if Munna chacha then it had to be Daniya ki chutney and no pudina, Cookie chachi – likes her Vegetarian fish (a self coined title to a paneer dish!), Arvind tau must have his hot phulkas , Lynda thai – gulab jamuns, samosas for Abu… some of the things I learnt along the way, the list of people’s favorites and dislikes endless.

Closer to home she and didi had a food bond that I could never break into – Brain curry, karela, aloo mangori, gunpowder on idlis, fried chilies! But never one to discriminate or favor one over the other, we had our special inner circle moments, just me and her …. A good steak, Cadbury’s milk chocolate, which Siddhartha always brought big slabs of, on every trip just for her, club sandwiches with bacon and lettuce, midnight snacks of Grapenuts and cream with just a dash of milk for texture. 

Glazed Ham

But the most special of all would be Sunday lunches. Ever since I started working or even college I had a 6 day week. The only lunch together with her would be a Sunday. As the years passed, it became a given that I would not, unless dire circumstances, accept a lunch invite on a Sunday. That was our special meal in the week. How she thought of making it a treat for a meat loving me – prawn curry, fish curry, vindaloo, matar paneer, thehri, sambar with drumsticks, saag ghosht, every Sunday one of my favorites. And once the babies came, khichdi, idlis, fried chicken , whatever was there favorites too.   

Nandsingh Bhaiya is a great cook. Far and wide, he is known for his scrumptious food, be it lunch, dinner, festive occasions or just day to day normal khaana. I've always thought that as has everyone else.

And then everything changed.

No tantalizing smells of Pork chops in the oven, no leftovers in the fridge to be whipped into something new to snack on,  no new treats to just ‘see if you like it’, no sniffs of disdain at being too fussy …..empty table tops, hollow silences, no special nights with a glass of baileys on ice and bitter chocolate conversations, funniest of all was Nandsingh bhaiya’s food lost all flavor  too..."too salty", "too burnt", "too spicy", "too tough". Favorites were favorites no more, food meant nothing but a morsel here or there to survive. 

Confused I looked far and near to figure what was the missing ingredient, what had changed, every nook and cranny, every room I searched for her, for answers, for the food I craved, for my stomach, my mind, my heart and my soul.

Answers will remain unanswered for I waited too long to ask them and now she is gone.  

My Mother.... My Hero

A new word needs to be coined and added into the dictionary to describe our mother. Awesome, beautiful, strong, don't even begin to describe her. Those of you here today who know her, know what we are talking about. But for those of you here, who never met her I shall speak on behalf of my sister, Jeejaji, Siddhartha, and her babies Zoey and Nayantara. 

A running joke in the family possibly , and certainly for Didi and me has been, mum you just sit on your bed , yet if she isn't we would get upset as to where she was!!!! And then when we think about it, she was always on the move in her earlier days, and once she found papa she just enjoyed not having to be anywhere but home.

SSP, grand central station . For no matter which part of the world you came from, Patti was always there. Till a few years ago, it was the permanent address for many. And that just tells us one thing, she's always been relied on. 

No one puts it better than Zoya when she tells didi, Nana really listens. The hours and hours mum has spent listening to us, advising us, giving us the raised eyebrow look, smiling at our silly stories and woes, patiently, quietly and always saying the right thing. 

Everyone always has had there special place that no one can touch. The list is of family and friends is endless. The concern mum has for them too. 

Here is what I know about our mother, she's been a fighter, she's taught us to live and let live, to love, to move on and forgive. To let go of that, that makes us unhappy. She's baffled everyone with always being content and happy no matter what has come her way. 

We have gotten so many mails and calls and messages from all over the world, her friends from her child hood, the airforce, family and friends of hers and papa's  and while all special and true i'd like to share what her nephew Abhay has said. he says - I have such wonderful memories of your mother. In fact all of my memories of her are positive which I don't think I can honestly say for many others. She had this amazing ability to make you feel , she would always be there for you, no matter what, and that made people feel safe Around her. I certainly did. 

Uncle Shashi wrote - patti was such a lovely person. Always so warm, affectionate and cheerful. She always spread laughter whenever she went. 

Mum's circle of friends over the years Included many wonderful doctors  , Dr Tiwari sent didi a MSG a few weeks back saying - taking care her of her is my duty and I and my team do it with a passion. She is the sweetest patient I have ever looked after. She has taught us bravery, resilience, humor in the face of distress and magnanimity. And last night he sent us a MSG , some of it was - she taught us many things merely by the way she lived her life. She could sprinkle the conversation with such high class humor. So well spoken and graceful. Etched in my mind forever. 

On a lighter note , mum is a shopaholic  ! And yet not once has she shopped for herself. It's always for others. No getting gifts coz u have to. Care and detail of what would the person want. What suits them best. What would be nice. Everything has to be done in time , with patience, concentration to detail. 

Those who have been home have  eaten well for she is the most amazing cook. As our many in our family, but with the pan India influences that she has , it's just always been finger licking delicious !!!!!!! Whenever we go out and order the same things we are disappointed. 

Silly random thoughts maybe ? But isn't that what matters most???? The little quirks, the memories, the laughs, the tears, the silent moments of just being together. 

I can't speak of her in past tense, for she will always be, as she has always been our guiding light, our anchor, our mentor, our everything. 

And didi and I will continue learning from her to be better human beings. 

All our lives we have heard and seen amazing love for papa and in the last few weeks the same expressions of love for mamma from all over the world. How very blessed we both are to have been loved by two such beautiful people. 

We are happy. She is Dancing somewhere with our papa.  In her words, this too shall pass, we shall learn to live with our grief, for we are, our mother's daughters !!!! 

So today , do go and say cheers to her, For she is smiling , wherever she is.