222 AM

As the creatures of the night come out she stares with glazed eyes.

Ants, lizards, bats and such.

Crawling. Tickling. Dropping. Flying.

The creatures of the night. Friends yet foe.

Swatting away a fly.

Scratching.

Trying to get the insides out. Screaming at the silence that surrounds her.

Cursing her eardrums and the buzzing mosquitoes.

Covering Kismat under a shroud of a blanket.

Thinking of the Immortals of Meluha.

Still gnawing at her soul for the unknown truths that tomorrow may reveal.

Skeletons knocking around her heavy memories trying to show her the way.

What's done can't be undone
.
Scratch away my friend till tomorrow comes.

Willy Wonka!

Ur kind and compassionate
A bit of a tool
I drink to stay sober
Yet I am a fool.
I feel like a poet
Of class two !
I hear you laughing and saying
Whoopity doo
But when I am in tears
U shed a few too

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. 

Deolikhan...

Between Ranikhet and Sitlakhet. Almora in front of me,twinkling in the distance , an hour away by road. A beautiful 2 bedroom cottage with a hammock to lie in. Never knew why everyone loved one so but lesson learnt. The perfect way to just soak up the sun or the stars depending on the time of day.  Another first was to stand quietly on a khud side and be surrounded with beautiful yellow butterflies flying around me. The most breath taking of it all was being able to see the morning sunrise with Trishul and Nanda Devi on the horizon. What had only ever been a picture in a text book was right there in front of my eyes.

The cottage is quaint with a broken road leading to it, wooden flooring, tilted roof, the smell of pine, raat ki rani, grandparents to grandkids and Jasmine to boot! Modern with tv, electricity and the finest amenities. You really want nothing.

My mind was pretty much on a complete shutdown since I left Delhi. Which is just what I needed? Think I would have really needed a loony bin if I hadn't come! Guess its just a phase where work, family, friends, relationships, hopes, dreams all burden one rather than me feeling happy and blessed for what I do have. But here watching the hillside, feeling the pitter patter of the drizzle around me, it all seems a lot less over bearing.

I've always known the hills and the sea have a calming influence on me, but i guess to much time flies before one gets away to this again. It's been only a day since I've been back yet it already seems like i need another escape from Delhi. And this is while i really do love my city the most in the world. Nothing like my own car to drive and knowing every nook and cranny. Maybe being on this trip just has brought out being a child again on some level, being taken care of, stress free - no having to plan a trip or transport or stay or food or 100 people's contrary desires.

Even now I shut my eyes and I imagine that little spot on the hill top and I feel blessed to have been a part of it. 

Fly Baby Fly…

Body, mind, soul broken is when you will be pushed to do something about it instead of escaping behind the mediocrity of responsibilities and the mundane forever more. And that’s exactly what’s happened with me. A random connect over message and 4 days later a road trip. 

From the moment I decided to come the days couldnot pass quickly enough. Nor was the pain of the city more intense.

A 10 hour journey later…sheer bliss… I can breathe again. Any less and I don’t think I’d have left the baggage behind… any less and the mind and body wouldnot have been ready to renew itself. But it was. And I am. Luscious green beautiful mountains surrounding me.  Almora across me , Ranikhet below me and Sitlakhet yet to be discovered around the curve. 

Fresh air, good food, the smell of pine and the beauty of the wild flowers on the hill side to add to a calm surrounding me. 

The city is always close by but it’s so much easier to just let it simmer and forget it just for awhile up here. Maybe once I regain My Strength and My Sanity I’ll venture down there again, maybe not … but till then, thank you Deolikhan for giving me a reason to feel I can fly again… even if it’s just for today....  

I only wonder… why do I always wait so long ????  

Moving on…

I firmly maintain that even years are better than odd years but what with the prophecy of the end of the world, 2012 really seems to be not working out too well and it really feels like 2013! Literary from 12 am on the 1^st of January till this day.  Deluded depressive thoughts are another reason for the sabbatical I guess but then I got a Eureka moment. My very dear friend lost someone extremely dear to her and I realized again that life is too short. Guess this happens to me once a year.. and usually about the same time. What’s the point of being depressed and unhappy when u can live and love and enjoy the small joys this world has to offer u. The shit will never end but a hug still makes one smile. Why hang on to something or someone who doesn’t have the strength to value you and ignore the ones who adore you? Why run away from people who love you because u don’t want to hear what they say, knowing they are right, when you do exactly the same thing? 

i get by with a little help from my friends.....

Ego, respect, hurt, attention, self preservation are important but important enough to lose out on love and smiles and walks in the hills? No, I don’t think so. So I’m gonna do what I do everyday, wake up and say today is the first day of the rest of my life and move on. One step in front of the other. I will learn to walk again. I will learn to run again. I will learn to fly again.  

The truth is out there....

A looming sense of dread lurks in the shadows of the day.
Inching forward as twilight sets in.
Kept at bay by some subconscious strength as the night gets darker.
With the flick of a light switch the darkness creeps into your skin.
The demons start suffocating you and your breath goes hollow.
Then falls the teardrop to chase it all away and clean your soul of evil.
One after the other till you lose count & fall into a exhausted slumber.
Magical places and people. Smiles and Treats.
Just when you reach out to your pot of gold, dawn paws at you.
Pulls you back to this conscious state of being.
The cycle never breaks....
Leaving only one question ...with no answer ... Which is my real life? 

I’m not a dog lover!

People who have dogs always pet stray dogs, what about your dogs at home, you may carry an infection??? People pick up strays, I disagree, how can you separate a puppy from its mother? What will happen to the poor mother when she can’t find her baby??? People feed dogs on the street, great! Till the day you forget or get bored of it or shift towns and all these dogs are dependent on you??? People scoff when I say you don’t want to get a dog or any animal because you can’t take care of it, you work and have no support. What do I know, I’m not a dog lover, 6 months later they give the dog away.

From the time I was little the dogs have been an integral part of my life. They got the treats, the comfiest chair in the house, all the love and attention and I hated it. There was Gidget , a dachshund , who was older than me. I had 2 big sisters – my sister and Gidgy. What a dog was she! Smarter than most humans I met then or ever since!. She’d irritate the hell out of me because she’d corner you between her paws and lick you clean to some doggie level of hygiene while I’d squirm with being tickled between my toes! ‘Don’t grumble meenakshi!’

Then there was Kajal , Gidget’s daughter. I didn’t really know how because she’d hog all my mum’s attention. Poor thing got paralysis of the hind legs. I didn’t get a paddling pool but a special one was got for her to help her recover. Hrmphf! I’d help fill the water and dry her down. Maybe pick her up to help once in a while. Whatever!

My masi had Thakur – Doberman, the most gracious gentlemen ever, scared me shitless why I wonder considering Gidget and he were the best pals. A Doberman and a Dachshund! Then there was Saiba – a Rottweiler, she looked at me funny and I always thought she was out to bite my bum!! Yet when Saiba was a puppy as was Surma the next dachshund after Kajal went onto doggie heaven, Sai would take Surma’s entire face into her mouth and not a scratch! Surma was the one who bullied Saiba all the time! As I grew older Saiba would sprawl across me on my bed and I wouldn’t move a muscle but somehow we managed to both sleep peacefully when occasion demanded it.

There was Gemini- Gemma – the Beagle. But she deserves a story all of her own.

Then I got my first dog Phoebe – technically she was for me but as all dogs in my house, they are mum’s best friends! Mum took her first trip in 25 years; Phoebe was old and fell ill, she had to be operated. I was there with my sister. Slept three nights on the floor with her after it, she went in her sleep. Buried her next to Gemma, the love of her life. How I cursed her for not hanging on just one more day till mum came home to say goodbye. I AM NOT a dog lover.

This brings us to the here and now. Kismat and Karma. Beagle + Dachshund mix. Deagles as we call them. Brother and sister. Kismat sensitive to the core gives love unconditionally. Karma – jealous and stubborn, always craves attention. I am always sidelined. Now they have migrated into my bed. Keep me up all night with their ‘in and outs’ Kismat sleeps all over me, sometimes we fight coz his paws are in my face. But he is the most reliable man ever, always there to greet me when I come home no matter what the hour. Karma won’t move an inch, digs her heels in but she does have the most soulful eyes even when I growl at her!

I tolerate my dogs! Im not a dog lover… so don’t say I am one!

Lost dreams.. Or are they.....

When one day runs into the other, month into month, year into year, in the bad times one feels time crawls and in the good it flashes by. However every once in a while one looks back and tries to analyse what one has achieved out of the list one had as a child. For me blessed with an active imagination I wanted to do anything and everything. I'd hold concerts in my back yard to an imaginary audience. I was going to be a world class rockstar. I was going to be a ballet dancer. I was going to be a best seller author. As I grew older I was going to be anchor of a travel show, earn while I followed my no 1 passion in the world. And then life happened!

Clearly I didn’t achieve any of this. I succumbed to the insecurities and pressures of not feeling good enough or strong enough to chase my dreams. I found new goals that I made myself believe that they made me happy and the funny thing is they did. It’s funny how life tweaks your dreams and gives it to you in some way, even if its not how u imagined it. My real audience consider me a ‘rockstar’ , I sometimes write in my blog for my own sanity, I’ve travelled on my own despite the odds to more places than most and while not an anchor i've found my foot in the world of making television shows.

Guess u never do lose sight of your dreams but just tweak them as you go along. And even if you do the universe does bring them to life in some way.

Random Musings 2009

What surprises me about human beings is that we never learn.

There are so many sayings out there.. learnings .. teachings on what not to do, what to learn from, how to live, what to eat and yet nothing sinks in… I’m not even talking of the big picture, for global warming, plagues, diseases, war, hate cannot be tackled till we learn to live happily as an individual.
I know I will get into a lot of trouble for saying this, and it’s not like I don’t think of all these things. It’s not like I don’t care about the poor or the orphaned or the starving. I feel as bad as the next human being when people die or are hurt in natural disasters or in wars. I feel equal amount of angst at recession or cruelty to animals or any of the big things out there… but I also have now come to strongly feel that what is the point of caring for all that when u don’t know where to start in rectifying your own life.
Why is it that we never learn from our own examples? We sit and feel sorry for ourselves and our plight all the time. Be it a bad job or a good job with a bad pay package. Be it heartbreak or loss of loved ones. Be it kinks in our own personalities, we crib but how much do we do to just be happy.
Happiness is in your own hands is what everyone says. I disagree. How is happiness in your own hands when human beings as a species are social beings? No man is an island and thus if people in your life are not happy or people who surround you don’t make you happy how can u be happy? If you’re healthy but your parent/sibling / husband/child is not your also not healthy, even if it’s just a feeling of sickness in the pit of your stomach you are not healthy either. If your best friend is going through a bad job spell you will feel miserable at the working culture while you might still thank your stars for your job. If you love your job but you hear of the brilliant pay hikes being given to acquaintances even you will feel wretched at your own meager earnings. If you see a really fit person you would envy them while you reach for a packet of fries. And even if you know how to be all that you rarely ever would make the sustained effort over time to be all that. These of course are just influences of exterior factors in your life , then you have the whole gamut of your own insecurities, complexes and emotions to deal with and fight with every minute of every day.. Waking or sleeping.

You will keep suffering disappointment, heart break, stress and worries and no matter how hard u run, you can’t run far.. so how does one achieve the ever shifting goal of happiness?

2009

they say what doesnt break you makes u stronger.
they say you learn from your mistakes
they say every cloud has a silver lining
they say suck it up and move on
they say life is short make the most of it
they say time heals all wounds

i say.. who are they?