The past few weeks have been telling
on my nerves and body. First I would like to target the weather.
Cold/winter/grey skies have never been appreciated by me except in
poems/paintings. An unexpected indisposition at home set the ball rolling which
apparently affected near and dear. This ‘indisposition’ silently endured by my
husband (the victim) for over a month.
To begin the ordeal of putting it in words ,one needs strong
nerves to bear cultural shocks but when the year begins with a physical shock (accident mentioned above) the following shocks are not
borne by a debilitating body. One learns from the laws of nature when one leaf
falls it gives way for a new leaf. This new leaf appears after the rough
weather . But that does not augur well for the other aging leaves. All will
fall one by one sooner or later.
Marriage by night
The marriage of a friend’s daughter
in all splendor was an honour to attend and participate. But the more amazing
part of the event was to see a group of hand-picked friends cutely dressed forming the
centre piece of the venue. And surprisingly they were from ‘ Dhanbad’ , of
course now re-located in different parts of India after
marriage. Their multi-cultured face(t)s became effervescently evident. I
wondered and swallowed hard due to a parched throat.
The surprise ‘element’ being
‘Dhanbad’ as I was mentally absorbed with Adiga’s book The White Tiger, where
the protagonist too hails from Dhanbad (Laxmangarh). No offence. Just tried to
fathom ’Vikas’ I mean development in India till date. But Adiga painted this
character on the lower rungs of society , I felt I was hovering with a more
genteel and sophisticated crowd. Some consolation.
Now like all weddings these days ,this
was an inter-regional marriage—Punjabi/Tamil pair, the couple. No no do not
rush to Chennai. The groom hailed from NCR and the bride from Delhi. She was
(the bride) a coy, cheerful and she looked hardly ruffled about an imminent
cultural exchange. But the phrase ‘cultural exchange’ affected my immune system.
All Punjabi marriages (North Indians)
take place after sunset below a starry sky , Wow ! romantic only if it was not in winter. So the
scope for many misgivings, mismatches or mistakes are patched with darkness.
Don’t get me wrong! Oh! not again the word ‘darkness’(as in Adiga’s novel)
crops up again.
Chilly Ambience
The Neem tree in the open air , an
ambience best suited for a courtyard in
the foreground of a mansion. The tree sheltered a ‘mandap’ for the ‘pheras’. Though
I stood witness under a thick branch, the neem tree
branch could not help wrapping me with a cold hug of the winter air. Eyes ,
mine and those of the wedding guests kept popping out, to get a glimpse of the
couple. All went well. I reached home but got laid up with a nasty cold that
pursues a high temperature and pampers a blocked nose. Bounties you earn from
winter outings. God bless the couple!
Mat O’Fa guest
The week that followed only permitted
a rigorous cleaning schedule to welcome a relative from the US. This included
cleaning bathrooms, kitchen shelves, furniture, bedroom furniture et al;
because he is a cleanliness freak. To claim a roundtrip flight that was ‘ favouring’
desirable and undesirable destinations from his benevolent office, the man sets
out on a lavish trip. This ‘compulsive’ visitor will dole out goodies on
arrival. But when we offer some to him he calls it mollycoddling. Praise the
arrogance of an American visitor/ tourist.....er.
The sockets supporting my bones in the limbs do look healthy but feel fagged
out in earnest as never do I enjoy being
in between the wheels of a hover-board ( You know wheels on the left &
wheels on the right with you in the centre) .This position demands speed and smooth sailing whereby you must vacillate efficiently for the rider to
avoid a trip up performance.
I cannot help but remember a
line towards the end of the novel by Adiga for all drinkers of tea and coffee. In
the north of India everyone drinks tea even the poor and in the south everyone
drinks coffee even the poor.The reason for quoting these beverages--- we accept all as humans so no point discerning ,as long as the mediating force forms the fulcrum.Looking for a concoction to appease taste.
Plum in the pudding
Many may not savour the pudding at my
age but I was endowed with a sweet tooth. Even though I take precautions to
consume less sweets the temptations to do window shopping at a sweet shop will
always be cherished. One such pudding which required no window shopping was an
earnest desire to meet a schoolmate after 35 years. I did manage to travel
almost 100 kms all by myself to meet Meena.
Meena is venturing gracefully into
the autumn of her life with less troubles, lesser bickering and even lesser
ambitions. She who tottered from one phase to another of life acquiring (academic) degrees
and bringing up a family , she felt elated at every achievement. Today she is
worldly wise and claims to be a sought after plum in the family pudding, much
better than being a will- o’- the wisp.
I fell for her usual throaty laugh
and that warm hug when we met.
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