On a rare occasion I made my way to “town” (South Bombay from for the non-Mumaikars). I am a Juhu gal, and would gladly never leave Juhu, or venture max to Bandra on one side (shopping) and 7 Bungalows to the other (Chandrus mithaiwala). But on that day I had to go to Mahalaxmi to attend my cousin brother’s sangeet ceremony.
My dad opted for the Bandra-Worli Sea Link route (gorgeous bridge! My second time on it, and loved it even more). My parents proudly introduced the bridge to Sanil. “It goes over the water” (yeah mom, all bridges do). It’s so big and tall (once again, most bridges are like that). “Its one of its kind in Bombay” (Ok that I have to give it to the Sea Link). Sanil was suitably impressed.
We crossed the bridge the reached the other side of Bombay and Sanil quips “When we were on the bridge it was like we were in Singapore. Once we crossed the bridge….its India again."
I LOVE Sanil’s perspectives on things. They have their own unique flavor and a distinct touch that simply cannot be replicated.
He wants to only travel by rickshaws. Gets rather disappointed if Nana offers to chauffeur him anywhere. “Nana is also coming? Oh no! Now we can’t go by rickshaw, we will have to go by car!”
His narrative on rickshaws: “It’s like an open car. I can look out and see everything and feel the breeze in my hair”. WOW! I have never heard such a poetic description of even a convertible.
And not to mention his ad recall in India! OMG! “Buy the bubblegum, and we shall get free tattoo”. “Lux cleans 8 times better” (Seriously!). And “Horlicks makes you smarter”. Really!!
On that note, I don’t like the fact that kids channel in India sell media space. In Singapore, very few brands are allowed to advertise on channels like Cartoon Network. In India, kids are bombarded with ads from breakfast cereals to “gel” pens and innumerable types and varieties of confectioneries. Only in India a toffee and pen command a TVC. Wish I could work with budgets like that when I plan my campaigns and did not hear client say: “We can’t afford TV spots, do a DM instead”. Me: “Sure, do you have a clean database”. Client “Database? What’s that?” Ok I so-digress (but some of my readers will share my pain about this)
Will end it on a Sanil exclusive quote on India and food- “Chapatis are the most importantest Indian food. So mama you can’t make chapatis, that means you don’t know how to cook” (Spoken like true MCP Indian man!). Sigh……
Monday, November 30, 2009
Saturday, November 28, 2009
The Indian aunty art to giving compliments
Have you ever noticed how Indian aunties give compliments? They mean well (or I sure hope they do), but it does not really sound like a compliment even though its intended as one.
Here are my few favorites:
Situation: Lift Lobby
Attire: Jeans and singlet
Aunty: "OMG! Kitni patli ho gayi hain (OMG! You have become so thin!)
Me: Thank you auntyji (in my politest tone- and yes I do have one)
Aunty: Really....bahut jyada patli ho gayi hai (Really you have become very thin)
My Dad: Don't say so much, she will start eating a lot again (Thanks dad!)
Aunty: Nahin pehlein bahut bahut bahut moti thi na (No, earlier she was really very very very fat)
Me: Thank you auntyji (this time feigning my politeness)
Situation: Wedding
Attire: Awesome lehenga with hairdo and make-up
Aunty (looking at me lovingly): Kitni sundar ho gayi hai (You have become so pretty now)
Me: Toh pehlein nahin thi? (You mean I was not pretty before?)
Aunty (too stunned to reply)
Situation: Wedding
Attire: Gorgeous sari
Aunty (to my cousin): You were looking so beautiful at the Sangeet ceremony yesterday…..(after looking closely)…actually that was not you, it was your sister.
SERIOUSLY!!???
Here is a tip aunties, say something nice and then stop. Don’t explain or elaborate. And yes, being little more tactful would go down well too.
Here are my few favorites:
Situation: Lift Lobby
Attire: Jeans and singlet
Aunty: "OMG! Kitni patli ho gayi hain (OMG! You have become so thin!)
Me: Thank you auntyji (in my politest tone- and yes I do have one)
Aunty: Really....bahut jyada patli ho gayi hai (Really you have become very thin)
My Dad: Don't say so much, she will start eating a lot again (Thanks dad!)
Aunty: Nahin pehlein bahut bahut bahut moti thi na (No, earlier she was really very very very fat)
Me: Thank you auntyji (this time feigning my politeness)
Situation: Wedding
Attire: Awesome lehenga with hairdo and make-up
Aunty (looking at me lovingly): Kitni sundar ho gayi hai (You have become so pretty now)
Me: Toh pehlein nahin thi? (You mean I was not pretty before?)
Aunty (too stunned to reply)
Situation: Wedding
Attire: Gorgeous sari
Aunty (to my cousin): You were looking so beautiful at the Sangeet ceremony yesterday…..(after looking closely)…actually that was not you, it was your sister.
SERIOUSLY!!???
Here is a tip aunties, say something nice and then stop. Don’t explain or elaborate. And yes, being little more tactful would go down well too.
A story a minute…..
Since the day I arrived in India I had blogposts in my head (OK that sounds a tad bit crazy) but that’s what India does to me. At any given time there are minimum of 5 things vying for your attention.
Mom: “You want Chila for breakfast?” (No! I only eat cereals YUCK! for breakfast to keep my weight in check). Dad “What time do you need the driver?” MTV- Trailer of ‘Pa’ (Vidya and Abhi are looking fabulous together!). Bombay Times- Some Kareena-Kurban-backless controversy, generated by the Sena of course. And the phone ringing with my best friend asking about the plans for the evening (which in Bombay context means 8 pm). And yes, all this at the exact same time!
So naturally there is so much fodder for writing. Potential topics: “How it is impossible to maintain a diet when holidaying in India”. “The 10,000th controversy raised by Sena which involves women and clothes (or the lack thereof)”. “IST: Morning = 12 noon, Afternoon = 5 pm, Evening = 8 pm, Night = 11 pm; Late night = 2 am). There you go….
In India there is inspiration everywhere. In Singapore we lead very one-dimensional lives. You generally do one thing at a time- or maximum of 2 if you are Ms. Multitasking like me. In India, it’s a whole different ball game (actually in India it’s not a ball game at all, its cricket, and that too in the new 20-20 format).
Sounds (what non-Indians would refer to as “noise”) are also unique here. Door bells (every 10 minutes- no exaggeration). Phone rings (mobile and landline- really, how popular are my parents?! And why has no one in India discovered that you can have a “silent” ring tone. Yes! It’s actually an option! Your phone does not have to sing ‘Chiggy Wiggy’ in Kylie Minogue’s voice)”. Car honks (there should be a day a month where drivers should not be allowed to blare their card horns- it would be a Guinness record for self-restraint). Mom talking to the kaam waali bai, bargaining with the bhaji wala at the door step and giving her recipe for paneer makhni to her niece (yes at the same time). And finally, the TV at a volume level that NEEDS to be that high so it can be heard above the rest of the din. (or that’s what my dad tells my mom).
But life still happens amongst all this chaos. Things miraculously get done in this madness and people carry on with their everyday lives with remarkable ease. There is so much happening that every minute there is a new story unfolding. As I said there is inspiration 24x7 in India.
I think that’s the reason there is never dearth of movie scripts- India is the world's largest producer of films, producing close to a 1000 films annually.vs. Hollywood which release approximately 650). That’s why there is a thriving advertising industry here where TVCs are still a form of entertainment. India is also the 3rd largest country publishing English books after USA and UK.
There are stories everywhere you look. I am only trying to capture a handful of them in my short time here.
Mom: “You want Chila for breakfast?” (No! I only eat cereals YUCK! for breakfast to keep my weight in check). Dad “What time do you need the driver?” MTV- Trailer of ‘Pa’ (Vidya and Abhi are looking fabulous together!). Bombay Times- Some Kareena-Kurban-backless controversy, generated by the Sena of course. And the phone ringing with my best friend asking about the plans for the evening (which in Bombay context means 8 pm). And yes, all this at the exact same time!
So naturally there is so much fodder for writing. Potential topics: “How it is impossible to maintain a diet when holidaying in India”. “The 10,000th controversy raised by Sena which involves women and clothes (or the lack thereof)”. “IST: Morning = 12 noon, Afternoon = 5 pm, Evening = 8 pm, Night = 11 pm; Late night = 2 am). There you go….
In India there is inspiration everywhere. In Singapore we lead very one-dimensional lives. You generally do one thing at a time- or maximum of 2 if you are Ms. Multitasking like me. In India, it’s a whole different ball game (actually in India it’s not a ball game at all, its cricket, and that too in the new 20-20 format).
Sounds (what non-Indians would refer to as “noise”) are also unique here. Door bells (every 10 minutes- no exaggeration). Phone rings (mobile and landline- really, how popular are my parents?! And why has no one in India discovered that you can have a “silent” ring tone. Yes! It’s actually an option! Your phone does not have to sing ‘Chiggy Wiggy’ in Kylie Minogue’s voice)”. Car honks (there should be a day a month where drivers should not be allowed to blare their card horns- it would be a Guinness record for self-restraint). Mom talking to the kaam waali bai, bargaining with the bhaji wala at the door step and giving her recipe for paneer makhni to her niece (yes at the same time). And finally, the TV at a volume level that NEEDS to be that high so it can be heard above the rest of the din. (or that’s what my dad tells my mom).
But life still happens amongst all this chaos. Things miraculously get done in this madness and people carry on with their everyday lives with remarkable ease. There is so much happening that every minute there is a new story unfolding. As I said there is inspiration 24x7 in India.
I think that’s the reason there is never dearth of movie scripts- India is the world's largest producer of films, producing close to a 1000 films annually.vs. Hollywood which release approximately 650). That’s why there is a thriving advertising industry here where TVCs are still a form of entertainment. India is also the 3rd largest country publishing English books after USA and UK.
There are stories everywhere you look. I am only trying to capture a handful of them in my short time here.
Sunday, November 22, 2009
An Indian First!
Bal Thackeray recently made a statement about Sachin Tendulkar "You became run out in the pitch of Marathi minds" as Sachin had said that he was "an India first and a Marathi after".
Cut to many years ago at a Diwali party in Singapore (my very early years in the country), a British man was talking to a group of Indians about the festival and its significance. He also mentioned that Diwali was probably the biggest Indian festival. It was a rhetoric question- not a question at all- but it got a varied range of responses. “Actually it’s a Hindu festival, we Parsis don’t celebrate it”. “In East India where I come from, Durga Puja is much bigger”. SERIOUSLY!!!
Foreigners have difficulty grasping the concept of India and we choose to complicate it further by referring to ourselves as Gujuratis, Sindhis, Parsis, Christians, Bengalis…Who outside India gives a flying F%^$!
And frankly why should people in India care too? Your motherland rules and everything else come after. We are Indians FIRST! Why is that so difficult to comprehend?!
Secondly your origins should be attributed to your city- the city you grew up in, where you studied, which gave you your childhood school memories (and best friends for life), your “first time” teen years and perhaps even your career and life partner. It does not matter which religion you are, which caste you belong to, the city you grew you up in makes up a big part of who you are. You could be a Kashmiri who has been bought up in Gujarat or a Gujrati who has lived all his life in Chennai.
Then in the scheme of things enters your religion- practicing or not practicing- your religion is a key aspect of your values and beliefs system. I may go to the temple or gurudwara once a month and on special occasions (Diwali, birthdays), but that does not make me an less religious than a Muslim who prays 5 times a day and a Christian who goes for Sunday mass every week.
And FINALLY, LAST, ALL THE WAY DOWN, RIGHT AT THE BOTTOM (you get the drift) is your caste- Maloo, Bengali, Tulu, Sindhi, Punju, etc etc etc. It’s the least important part of who you are and should be.
We keep falling in the trap laid by the British Raj that was conceived to rule over us- “Divide and Rule”. It kept them in power for very many years.
Let’s break from those shackles. Isn’t it time enough?
So I am an Indian first, a Bombayite (or Mumbaikar with due respect to Balasaheb) next, a Hindu after and Sindhi last. What about you?
Cut to many years ago at a Diwali party in Singapore (my very early years in the country), a British man was talking to a group of Indians about the festival and its significance. He also mentioned that Diwali was probably the biggest Indian festival. It was a rhetoric question- not a question at all- but it got a varied range of responses. “Actually it’s a Hindu festival, we Parsis don’t celebrate it”. “In East India where I come from, Durga Puja is much bigger”. SERIOUSLY!!!
Foreigners have difficulty grasping the concept of India and we choose to complicate it further by referring to ourselves as Gujuratis, Sindhis, Parsis, Christians, Bengalis…Who outside India gives a flying F%^$!
And frankly why should people in India care too? Your motherland rules and everything else come after. We are Indians FIRST! Why is that so difficult to comprehend?!
Secondly your origins should be attributed to your city- the city you grew up in, where you studied, which gave you your childhood school memories (and best friends for life), your “first time” teen years and perhaps even your career and life partner. It does not matter which religion you are, which caste you belong to, the city you grew you up in makes up a big part of who you are. You could be a Kashmiri who has been bought up in Gujarat or a Gujrati who has lived all his life in Chennai.
Then in the scheme of things enters your religion- practicing or not practicing- your religion is a key aspect of your values and beliefs system. I may go to the temple or gurudwara once a month and on special occasions (Diwali, birthdays), but that does not make me an less religious than a Muslim who prays 5 times a day and a Christian who goes for Sunday mass every week.
And FINALLY, LAST, ALL THE WAY DOWN, RIGHT AT THE BOTTOM (you get the drift) is your caste- Maloo, Bengali, Tulu, Sindhi, Punju, etc etc etc. It’s the least important part of who you are and should be.
We keep falling in the trap laid by the British Raj that was conceived to rule over us- “Divide and Rule”. It kept them in power for very many years.
Let’s break from those shackles. Isn’t it time enough?
So I am an Indian first, a Bombayite (or Mumbaikar with due respect to Balasaheb) next, a Hindu after and Sindhi last. What about you?
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Life imitates Art? Art imitates Life?
It happens many times in life that you feel “This is straight out of a movie”. And while you are watching a movie you think to yourself (or mention to the person next to you if you are the “talkative” movie goer) “This would never happen in real life”.
Agree some scenarios from films are extremely unlikely to take place in real life (especially if the movie in question is a commercial Hindi blockbuster or an OTT Hollywood action movie). But we underestimate life. There are so many instances in our lives and lives of people around us that defy all conventions. They are never-before heard stories or never-before seen dramas. But they are true and real and they exist.
You meet a random stranger in a bus queue, ask an innocuous question like “What time’s the next bus” or make a random remark like “Boy, its hot today”, and before you know it you are having a chat with this stranger, start discovering common friends, shared hobbies or mutual dislikes and just like that, you make a connection. With someone who was a complete stranger only few minutes ago. You just hit it off, as simple as that.
You were never supposed to go out that night. It was movie night at home snuggled up on the couch in your PJs. A friend drags you out of the house, you go clubbing against your will, meet a cute guy, fall in love, marry and have his babies (stop being cynical, it happens!).
A one second spilt decision can change the course of your whole life. You can play “What if” scenarios in your head as much as you like. But no one can tell you what would have happened if you would have taken a different decision than the one you took. Is it destiny? Is it fate? Was it bound to happen?
I don’t know. But what I do know is bizarre, strange, unbelievable things happen in life all the time. We just need acknowledge and embrace them.
A little more faith, a little less sarcasm. A little more smile, a little less rolling of eyes. A little more trust, a little less scepticism. A little more encouraging nods, a little less nonchalant shoulder shrugs. A little more belief, a little less doubt. A little more dreamy, a little less real.
Be open to experiences that defy norm. Take decisions that raise eyebrows. Do things that make people a little uncomfortable. Let your life inspire Art. So when a movie is made on your life, it’s not a boring and dull one. But a movie that people watch and say “Hey, that does not happen in real life”.
A game I love playing, try it! Which actor would best portray you on screen? I am torn...Konkana Sen Sharma or Kajol? Meg Ryan or Michelle Pfeiffer?
Agree some scenarios from films are extremely unlikely to take place in real life (especially if the movie in question is a commercial Hindi blockbuster or an OTT Hollywood action movie). But we underestimate life. There are so many instances in our lives and lives of people around us that defy all conventions. They are never-before heard stories or never-before seen dramas. But they are true and real and they exist.
You meet a random stranger in a bus queue, ask an innocuous question like “What time’s the next bus” or make a random remark like “Boy, its hot today”, and before you know it you are having a chat with this stranger, start discovering common friends, shared hobbies or mutual dislikes and just like that, you make a connection. With someone who was a complete stranger only few minutes ago. You just hit it off, as simple as that.
You were never supposed to go out that night. It was movie night at home snuggled up on the couch in your PJs. A friend drags you out of the house, you go clubbing against your will, meet a cute guy, fall in love, marry and have his babies (stop being cynical, it happens!).
A one second spilt decision can change the course of your whole life. You can play “What if” scenarios in your head as much as you like. But no one can tell you what would have happened if you would have taken a different decision than the one you took. Is it destiny? Is it fate? Was it bound to happen?
I don’t know. But what I do know is bizarre, strange, unbelievable things happen in life all the time. We just need acknowledge and embrace them.
A little more faith, a little less sarcasm. A little more smile, a little less rolling of eyes. A little more trust, a little less scepticism. A little more encouraging nods, a little less nonchalant shoulder shrugs. A little more belief, a little less doubt. A little more dreamy, a little less real.
Be open to experiences that defy norm. Take decisions that raise eyebrows. Do things that make people a little uncomfortable. Let your life inspire Art. So when a movie is made on your life, it’s not a boring and dull one. But a movie that people watch and say “Hey, that does not happen in real life”.
A game I love playing, try it! Which actor would best portray you on screen? I am torn...Konkana Sen Sharma or Kajol? Meg Ryan or Michelle Pfeiffer?
Friday, October 23, 2009
The Great Indian Sacrifice
Elder brother, younger brother both fall in love with the same girl- but they both don’t know that about each other. Elder brother finds out that the love of his life is also the woman of his brother’s dreams. So what does the elder brother do? Step aside of course! Without telling anything to his younger brother. And pretending to the girl he loves, that he actually despises her. The girl then finds solace in the younger brother’s arms.
But hey, the story does not end there. The younger brother finds out about his elder brother’s feelings and the great sacrifice (usually through an overhead conversation between elder brother and mum/dad/best friend/sister). And what does younger brother do? Step aside of course!
And it need not be 2 brothers i.e. “Saajan”; it could be 2 best friends i.e. “Muqaddar ka Sikandar”, “Saagar”, “Naseeb” (the list can go on and on).
SERIOUSLY! Did anyone consider asking the girl who she wants to be with? May be it was neither of the 2 self-sacrificing dimwits!
What is with Indians and their penchant for sacrifice? Mothers are another guilty party. Forever sacrificing for their sons and daughters. And brothers for their sisters and vice-versa.
Sometimes I feel we are stuck in a 70s-80s social drama film wherein sacrifices reigned supreme. Remember the struggling Nirupa Roy of Deewar? The handsome and pained face of Vinod Khanna in Qurbani? (As he sings for “Hum tumhe chahatein hain aise” to Zeenat on the beach).
And the greatest sacrifice of all- Jai (Amitabh) giving up his life for his best buddy Veeru (Dharamendar) in Sholay. Sigh! And a lesser known one by Naseer in Karma. And Jackie in 1942- A love story. And the list is long...
Our female protagonists also are not left behind. Juhi Chawla in Aaina. A change of pattern here, with the younger sibling being the “sacrificing Sita”.
I believe this is because we all Indians suffer from a Ramayan and Mahabharat hangover. Brother’s sacrifice for bother- Bharat-Ram, Laxman-Ram in Ramayan; the Pandav brothers in various permutations and combinations in Mahabharat. Sita’s trial by fire coaxed by Ram and ignited by a dhobi (why a dhobi* I always wondered?). We are kinda ODed on mythology stories and almost every story has its roots seeped in sacrifice.
I think sacrifices are noble and some even pure (like the ones made by mothers). But I do think many times we give ourselves too much importance and the other person too little credit. May be they don’t need our sacrifices? May be they simply need a helping hand or a friendly chat? Or may be they don’t really need us at all?
Now that’s a thought! May be selflessness is just overrated? Who am I kidding?! I could not survive a day being selfish. The guilt would simply kill me. But I will aim for some emotional detachment and see where I net out. On that positive (ish) note, I sign off. Good Night!
* It is said that because of what the dhobi did to Sita, there is a curse on dhobis worldwide (OK, India-wide)- that as a community they will never really prosper and their strata in society will never rise. Probably true…have never really met an affluent dhobi. But may darzis (tailors) have transformed into fashion designers. Food for thought....
But hey, the story does not end there. The younger brother finds out about his elder brother’s feelings and the great sacrifice (usually through an overhead conversation between elder brother and mum/dad/best friend/sister). And what does younger brother do? Step aside of course!
And it need not be 2 brothers i.e. “Saajan”; it could be 2 best friends i.e. “Muqaddar ka Sikandar”, “Saagar”, “Naseeb” (the list can go on and on).
SERIOUSLY! Did anyone consider asking the girl who she wants to be with? May be it was neither of the 2 self-sacrificing dimwits!
What is with Indians and their penchant for sacrifice? Mothers are another guilty party. Forever sacrificing for their sons and daughters. And brothers for their sisters and vice-versa.
Sometimes I feel we are stuck in a 70s-80s social drama film wherein sacrifices reigned supreme. Remember the struggling Nirupa Roy of Deewar? The handsome and pained face of Vinod Khanna in Qurbani? (As he sings for “Hum tumhe chahatein hain aise” to Zeenat on the beach).
And the greatest sacrifice of all- Jai (Amitabh) giving up his life for his best buddy Veeru (Dharamendar) in Sholay. Sigh! And a lesser known one by Naseer in Karma. And Jackie in 1942- A love story. And the list is long...
Our female protagonists also are not left behind. Juhi Chawla in Aaina. A change of pattern here, with the younger sibling being the “sacrificing Sita”.
I believe this is because we all Indians suffer from a Ramayan and Mahabharat hangover. Brother’s sacrifice for bother- Bharat-Ram, Laxman-Ram in Ramayan; the Pandav brothers in various permutations and combinations in Mahabharat. Sita’s trial by fire coaxed by Ram and ignited by a dhobi (why a dhobi* I always wondered?). We are kinda ODed on mythology stories and almost every story has its roots seeped in sacrifice.
I think sacrifices are noble and some even pure (like the ones made by mothers). But I do think many times we give ourselves too much importance and the other person too little credit. May be they don’t need our sacrifices? May be they simply need a helping hand or a friendly chat? Or may be they don’t really need us at all?
Now that’s a thought! May be selflessness is just overrated? Who am I kidding?! I could not survive a day being selfish. The guilt would simply kill me. But I will aim for some emotional detachment and see where I net out. On that positive (ish) note, I sign off. Good Night!
* It is said that because of what the dhobi did to Sita, there is a curse on dhobis worldwide (OK, India-wide)- that as a community they will never really prosper and their strata in society will never rise. Probably true…have never really met an affluent dhobi. But may darzis (tailors) have transformed into fashion designers. Food for thought....
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Diwali Memories
One of my earliest most vivid childhood Diwali memories is my mum asking me (actually more like pleading me) to sleep in the afternoon so I would not be sleepy early at night and could enjoy Diwali celebrations. And I refused, as any self respecting 7 year old should. And rest assured while doing the puja at 8 pm (I was, still am, an early sleeper), I would be dozing off and telling my mom “I am sleepy”. This was even before the festivities had started. Nothing pissed my mum off more. And I could not understand her frustration. Here I am, a poor little kid, feeling sleepy and all I want is to curl up in bed, why should that annoy her?
It never occurred to me that my sleep pattern completely screws up her festive plans (a sleepy kid = an irritable kid = a bothered mum). And now when Sanil refuses to nap in the afternoon, when we have plans for the evening, I find myself in the same predicament as my mum did, all those years ago.
When this exact situation happened last Saturday with Sanil, I recollected this memory, and it got me thinking of my other childhood Diwali memories. Here are some key ones- in no particular order- except what comes to mind first. So here it is on “first come first serve basis”:
1) Pista-Badam biscuits (Almond-Cashew biscuits):
Ok, who came up with the idea that these actually make good Diwali presents? I don’t know anyone who really likes them, but yet every Diwali when I was growing up, they were distributed with gusto. They are way too sweet, hard enough to break your teeth and come in jazzy aluminium boxes. I am still convinced that there was only one box produced every year and was never consumed. As each person just passed it along to the next one, without ever opening it. (Ok well a few initial ones were probably consumed, and once people realised just how awful they were, they were passed along at the next house visit).
2) Ladis
This is a long string of crackers which is lit from one end and it explodes every few seconds until the spark reaches the end of the string. The noise level is close to a minor bomb blast and the effects on the environment- not worth even getting into that. It also served an indication of one’s status in life- the longer the ladi = the richer you are perceived to be (as you can afford to literally burn money). And every year the Desais and Singhs used to have a competition on the longest ladi. (My old building cronies will know exactly what I am talking about).
3) Silk saris
Diwali was the time when mums adorned in their finest silks. Red, maroon, bottle green, turquoise, fuchsia pink, magenta, navy blue- every possible bright color- and sometimes more than a few in the same sari. The lovely silk saris were accessorized with the most awesome jewellery pieces- gold with stones, kundan, meenakari work, jhumkas, chokers, bangles....it’s no wonder that my favourite saris till date are kanjivarams and patolas. The new-agey “evening cocktail” saris can never have the same charm. (They do look incredible sexy though, especially when teamed up with a halter neck blouse, but well, as always, I digress.)
4) Saroj aunty’s cake
No Diwali was complete without Saroj aunty’s special chocolate cake (decorated with colored chocolate shavings). It still is the best chocolate cake ever. And even though aunty was kind enough to teach me to bake it and gave me the recipe- it never turns out like hers.
5) OD on cold drinks and ice-creams
Unlike for kids today, for us, “cold drinks” i.e. sodas were a treat for special occasions. As were ice-creams. Diwali was a time to gorge on both especially when parents take you visiting to boring old relatives houses. It also worked as a bribe to stop bothering parents when they entertained their friends.
6) House parties
My mum used to host Diwali lunches for many years. All my aunts used to make their specialities and there used to be 40+ people in my house. I loved every minute of it! Maya chachi’s batada wada, my mom’s dahi wadas, Mita chachis veg Manchurian, Priya chachi’s kheema, Kavita mami’s prawns...yumm! And lots of fun, laughter, jokes and pranks.
The most amazing thing in all this was- no matter how many people were in the house, no matter how noisy it was, no matter the chaos, no matter the mayhem, my badi mama (grandmom), found a place (and the peace) to take her afternoon nap. Nothing, nothing, ever stopped her from that. And the evening ended with Mita chachi making tea for everyone.
From all of these above, what I remember most is the excitement pre-Diwali, the anticipation, and joy that was experienced that was never a letdown. I cherish the togetherness, the love and the affection that bought the immediate families, extended families and friends altogether to bring rays of happiness in each other’s lives on this festival of lights.
And what is even heartening to know is that after all these years, that excitement, that anticipation and that love has not diminished a single bit.
Wish you all a very happy Diwali. May wealth, health and happiness never leave your side.
Diwali of 2009
It never occurred to me that my sleep pattern completely screws up her festive plans (a sleepy kid = an irritable kid = a bothered mum). And now when Sanil refuses to nap in the afternoon, when we have plans for the evening, I find myself in the same predicament as my mum did, all those years ago.
When this exact situation happened last Saturday with Sanil, I recollected this memory, and it got me thinking of my other childhood Diwali memories. Here are some key ones- in no particular order- except what comes to mind first. So here it is on “first come first serve basis”:
1) Pista-Badam biscuits (Almond-Cashew biscuits):
Ok, who came up with the idea that these actually make good Diwali presents? I don’t know anyone who really likes them, but yet every Diwali when I was growing up, they were distributed with gusto. They are way too sweet, hard enough to break your teeth and come in jazzy aluminium boxes. I am still convinced that there was only one box produced every year and was never consumed. As each person just passed it along to the next one, without ever opening it. (Ok well a few initial ones were probably consumed, and once people realised just how awful they were, they were passed along at the next house visit).
2) Ladis
This is a long string of crackers which is lit from one end and it explodes every few seconds until the spark reaches the end of the string. The noise level is close to a minor bomb blast and the effects on the environment- not worth even getting into that. It also served an indication of one’s status in life- the longer the ladi = the richer you are perceived to be (as you can afford to literally burn money). And every year the Desais and Singhs used to have a competition on the longest ladi. (My old building cronies will know exactly what I am talking about).
3) Silk saris
Diwali was the time when mums adorned in their finest silks. Red, maroon, bottle green, turquoise, fuchsia pink, magenta, navy blue- every possible bright color- and sometimes more than a few in the same sari. The lovely silk saris were accessorized with the most awesome jewellery pieces- gold with stones, kundan, meenakari work, jhumkas, chokers, bangles....it’s no wonder that my favourite saris till date are kanjivarams and patolas. The new-agey “evening cocktail” saris can never have the same charm. (They do look incredible sexy though, especially when teamed up with a halter neck blouse, but well, as always, I digress.)
4) Saroj aunty’s cake
No Diwali was complete without Saroj aunty’s special chocolate cake (decorated with colored chocolate shavings). It still is the best chocolate cake ever. And even though aunty was kind enough to teach me to bake it and gave me the recipe- it never turns out like hers.
5) OD on cold drinks and ice-creams
Unlike for kids today, for us, “cold drinks” i.e. sodas were a treat for special occasions. As were ice-creams. Diwali was a time to gorge on both especially when parents take you visiting to boring old relatives houses. It also worked as a bribe to stop bothering parents when they entertained their friends.
6) House parties
My mum used to host Diwali lunches for many years. All my aunts used to make their specialities and there used to be 40+ people in my house. I loved every minute of it! Maya chachi’s batada wada, my mom’s dahi wadas, Mita chachis veg Manchurian, Priya chachi’s kheema, Kavita mami’s prawns...yumm! And lots of fun, laughter, jokes and pranks.
The most amazing thing in all this was- no matter how many people were in the house, no matter how noisy it was, no matter the chaos, no matter the mayhem, my badi mama (grandmom), found a place (and the peace) to take her afternoon nap. Nothing, nothing, ever stopped her from that. And the evening ended with Mita chachi making tea for everyone.
From all of these above, what I remember most is the excitement pre-Diwali, the anticipation, and joy that was experienced that was never a letdown. I cherish the togetherness, the love and the affection that bought the immediate families, extended families and friends altogether to bring rays of happiness in each other’s lives on this festival of lights.
And what is even heartening to know is that after all these years, that excitement, that anticipation and that love has not diminished a single bit.
Wish you all a very happy Diwali. May wealth, health and happiness never leave your side.
Diwali of 2009
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