Destiny

Two days ago there was an auto strike in Mumbai, hike in petrol/diesel induced their demand for hike in auto fare. It paid off, the minimum fare of Rs9 shot up to Rs11, I smiled as I argued with the auto guy telling him, “So now auto fare in Mumbai hiked from Rs9 to Rs11, but I don't have one rupee change.. excuse me.. will you let it go??? You also didn't have it then...remember???? Now its my turn to bully you.....” and the guy said, “Kya kare maam, nahi hoga to nahi dena.” he waited till I found a coin to give it to him. But somehow I have always dug out a rupee coin to give them their change and will always try to collect one rupee coins so that I don’t give them less.

And now, as I wait for an auto-rickshaw, there seems to be scarcity of them. Fifteen minutes and no auto, either they are occupied or they are not in mood of taking me across. Silly men, why they refuse to take us, I fail to understand, aren’t they catering their service to our needs? I hate waiting on the middle of the road with a desperate look on my face, but some of them are so heartless, that they don’t feel sorry for my sad look.

Suddenly I see one auto halt in front of me, I wait for the people to pay their fare and I quickly sink in. I don’t want to give him a chance to refuse and I just order him to drive on. He looks at me through his mirror and asks me if I have waited for long.

I stare at his grey head and then meet his eyes in the mirror and say “You people all the same. You will go only where you want to go. Why do you drive an auto? It is better you buy a private vehicle and just give a lift to the people whom you like.”

He smiles and says he understands my anger.

“Truly, I don’t understand your bradhari of auto and taxi drivers!!” I continue.

He smiles and says “Maam, Seems like you are waiting for an auto for a long time. I can tell by the way you barged into my vehicle. How may auto drivers refused to take you? Huh? Ten?”

I nod my head and say, “Maybe ten.”

And he says, “Maybe you were in my destiny that’s why they all refused you. You were destined to sit in my auto.”

I don’t know what to say. Dumbstruck!!!

Destiny??? Wooooh!! I have heard about destiny in choosing a life partner and even a friend, a family, a job, lumpsum money, trip to unknown places, but this grey-haired-auto-driver, a two-minute-chum? I won't even remember his face if I see him again!!!

Was he really in my destiny? I had only two minutes ride in his auto and listened to his chat.

Some destiny there!!!! Hahaha!!

How they make perfect omelets

Do You know to make an omelet? Ask the professional to make it for you. Smart move!!

If you can read the pictures you may follow the procedure.

During my recent trip to Darjeeling, mornings I looked forward to ‘live’ breakfast…haahaha. That’s what the food counter said…’Live Breakfast’ and live was that chef would make for you the omelet the way you like…half fry-sunny side up or plain omelet. I would always ask for same omelet with lots of chillies and onions, although there was a great variety of food on display, I had no appetite to eat any other spicy, heavy stuff like puri bhaji, idli sambar, or any other delicacies so early in the mornings. Normally at home, my breakfast is just a glass of fresh juice. But since I was on holiday, and since I didn’t have to make the breakfast for myself, (yeah, I am too lazy sometimes) I was okay with having breakfast in the mornings. But everyday I stuck to the same menu: egg omelet, baked potatoes, salad and fresh juice; and that kept me cheerful till the lunch time.

While I ate, I couldn’t help looking at other tables and would be surprised with the amount of food that people could eat at every meal. Their plates would be overflowing with food and it got me thinking that must we abuse our stomach just because we have paid for a buffet meals??? Is it so important to taste every dish on display at every meal??? I would watch them help themselves with assorted meals second time, and sometimes third servings!!!

One of our friends in the group was a Jain, and her strict diet of ‘no root’ vegetable restricted her meals. She would order special meals for herself and while she waited for those special meals, she would start munching on bread, jam, sweet dish, fruits and everything that was permitted by her religion. When the food arrived, it would be of big quantity and although she would over eat, still most of it would go waste. At every meal, she would attract attention to herself and throw temper tantrums, (much to our embarrassment) if they didn’t provide her food on time.

I fail to understand why people give so much importance to food. For me, food is just a necessity to remain healthy. If chanced upon eating good food in a fancy restaurant, I might relish, but for me, simple home cooked meal is a delightful treat.

81 year-old-Sindhi Immigrant shares her story

I see her everyday sit by the window and greet every passerby. Her wrinkled face shows the lines of pain. Sita is eighty one years old and is quite happy to find a listener in me. She has many stories to tell and remembers them quite vividly. I sit cross legged, across her and try to listen to her. Her speech is not clear and many times I have to ask her to repeat to understand what she has to relate.

Sita Chatpar was eighteen years old when the partition took place. She remembers the day, when 500 Muslim sardars had barged into her aunts’ magnificent house but they were not able to spot them because all family was hiding under the beds. She talks about the time when curfew was imposed in the city and they sat in darkness fearing violence. On the day of exodus, she and thousands of other Sindhi families boarded the four-storey streamer, to escape the tortures back home. Conversion to Muslim religion was mandatory or else all those who chose to be Hindus had to leave the country. It took them four days to round the trip in the overcrowded streamer, they were off loaded at Mumbai docks and were accommodated at Sindhi refugee camps at military quarters, Kalyan. For three years, she stayed in inhuman condition, sharing the big hall, sub-divided by flimsy curtain. They shared one bathroom amongst fifty families. They were provided with food-ration and blankets. After three years, they moved to a rented house and she took up the job, first as toffee wrapper in a sweets factory and later in the Bajaj electrical company, assembling electrical parts till the company closed down. She , then moved into her married sister’s house to live the rest of her life, helping in the house-hold chores while her brother-in-law (doctor by profession) supported the family.

Life was not easy in Pakistan too. Having lost her father at a very early age, Sita could not pursue her studies after class seven as she was expected to contribute to house hold expenses. She and her six sisters, along with their mother and grand-ma worked during the day, machining, stitching clothes and gowns and other handicraft items which they later sold to the stores. But her face lights up when she talks fondly about Pakistan, where she spent her childhood. She remembers the wide and spotless roads that were cleaned with soap and water twice a day, the market places like ‘Mithidhar’, Kharodhar’, Zori bazar, Khato Sadar, Kagzi Bazar, etc. where she would take her merchandise to sell or go for shopping. She remembers the restaurant where they sold delicious cooked mutton, Tandoori rotis, bhajiyas and dahi wadas. She remembers the Sukhdev Haveli Mandir that she would visit on religious days. They celebrated all kinds of festivals like Holi, Diwali, satto, etc. On Rakhi days, a pandit would come to their house and tie rakhis to all the girls in the house.

The visit to a film was a luxury event done just once a year, there was no radio in the house, the women spend their time singing hymns at the temple where they assembled regularly. At the age of fourteen, her friends were married off to men thrice their age. But Sita never married and has worked to support herself all her life. Presently she lives with her niece and is well looked after.

When I asked her what advice she would give to the youth of today she said that one should not waste too much money on useless items and saving for the rainy day was very important, it is important to be educated in life and have some set goals.

Never leave the comfort of your own home and live a dependent life, she added.

PS: This post was written for “Beyond Sindh’ a tri-monthly magazine published from Hong Kong for which I write regularly. Beyond Sindh magazine delivers the latest topics of interest to the Sindhi Diasporas of today, covering our past, present and future.

Visit to Goddess Kali Temple in Kolkata

As soon as we got off the car, few pundits surrounded us, offering us their service by praying for us for a fee. What special way would they pray for me that Mata Kali would listen to them instead of direct communication with me? I shooed them away, preferring a direct interview with Goddess Kali.

There were narrow lanes leading to Kali temple. Every shop wanted us to deposit our foot-wear with them. I was not willing to walk bare foot down those lanes. There was too much dirt, filth, used flowers, junk and water at some places. I ignored all the shop keepers until I reached the entrance of the temple. Here was this lady selling big garland of flowers, holding in her hand like some heavy weight champion. I bought the garland from her for just Rs10 and deposited my foot wear with her.

Bare footed, I walked inside the temple, through the dirty path. My feet itched at every step. I could feel the crushing of flowers under my feet, the juice sticking under my soles, the floor was slippery and I held on to stone-wall for support, taking smaller steps, trying to maintain my balance. The garland was a bit too long and although I had folded it around my arm, it dangled under my knee. One flower-seller wanted me to buy some more flowers from him. He said that the flowers garland that I was carrying had touched the ground and that I needed to discard it. He kept repeating, telling me the Goddess Kali would be upset with my carelessness if I offered her ‘dirty’ flowers that had touched the ground, but I ignored him. I walked toward the idol and pundit grabbed the garland from my hand and held my arm. He pulled me in front of the idol and asked me to give some money. Why was he asking me for money? If I wanted to donate some cash, I would do so without anybody forcing me. I looked at the idol of Goddess Kali, a large black stone with large white eyes, surrounded by flowers and brocade, flashy clothes, I closed my eyes, looking for a image of my Lord within my mind and offered my silent prayers and suddenly I was pushed aside to make way for new devotees. The place was too crowded, sweat clinged to me and it felt as if the message was that if I was not willing to part with my money then it was better that I moved aside. Was Goddess Kali angry with me for not parting with my cash? In crowded place, I don’t normally open my purse. I reasoned out that Goddess Kali would understand and would not punish me for my stingy behavior. I walked with the guilt towards exit.

Guilt disturbed me. A thought lingered that the punishment would be severe. I was afraid. I prayed again. I turned back and walked to the sweet shop. I bought 100 grams pedas. I spoke to Goddess Kali telling her that I had spent the money by buying the sweets from a person who was trying to earn a living. I had given him the business of Rs20. Surely Goddess Kali should be happy with me. The Rs20 that I had not inserted into her charity box was instead put into box of the person who was working hard. I was being fair. Goddess Kali should be pleased with my intelligent spending.

Guilt free, I popped the pedas into my mouth, one by one.

Air trip from Mumbai to Kolkata

“Okay! Now move over, I need window seat”
“But you asked for aisle seat”
“Oh! I forgot, I wanted window seat actually”
“Hmmmn”
“You know you are not suppose to take pictures from airplane”
“Why?”
“For security reasons”
“But I am not a terrorist, I just clicked for remembrance”
“What remembrance? That you once travelled in an airplane?”
“Grrh! I have traveled hundreds of times; just want a birds eye view of Mumbai and Kolkata”
“On one condition”
“What?
“That you don’t talk after every picture that you take and irritate me”
“Fine, promise”
“Look, click that one”
“Okay!”
"Oh My God!Mumbai airport looks neat!
"Yeah! it does"

“Did you remove that one?”
“Yeah”
"Look! Look! Look! the river is there"
"Yep, I can see that"

“And that one”

“Yeah! I am clicking”
"Mumbai buildings look like matchboxes na"
"Yeah! they do"

“You have the correct angle? Huh?”
"yeah"
"Kolkata has so many trees"
"hmmn"

"Oh yeah we are landing, click, click, click, click na"
“Yep”

“Look there is Kolkata”
“I know, Ma!”

Finally, the trip was good...let me check the pictures please.
You are sometimes so clumsy, If I were not there ,you would remove all faltu pictures.

True! Sigh!

Fatal Ecstasy (55-er)

“Help me, please?”
She urged. Her monotone, consumed by desperation, twanged
“Give me some more.”
The spasms came again, she screamed
Loud shrill resonated.
Silence
He lay next to her still body, lust overpowering his contentment.
“I must buy some more of those pills”
He mumbled. Covetousness thundered again.
The wicked grin eclipsed his face.

What If?

What If

What if I unscrew that mystery box
To find your heart tied within
Could I pluck it
Keep it
Next to mine
And hear its soft upbeat rhythm

What if I touch your song of love
As it slips
Through my train of consciousness

Could I cuddle it closer
On cold winter nights
And find some moments of coziness

What if we heard them in chorus sing
Those bluebirds
Rhyming all the strings

Would we flutter our blinks
Like butterfly wings
Dancing in trance to melodious rings

A secret crush, no more you can be
Possible things
Don’t end in a dream

Your heart whispers closer
I for one
In love, I float in ecstasy

(c) Pushpee

Revisiting Tenerife

Last year, I went to visit my family in Tenerife, Canary Islands. I have lived in this island for more than 10 years, but after setting up my home in Mumbai, I visit Tenerife now as a tourist. It gives me pleasure to revisit those places where I have had some good memories and since I know every nook and corner of the city, I just go off on my own, visiting places of interest. It’s fun travelling by bus or tram, or just by foot and exploring the place behind my lens. I took many photographs this time and here I am glad to share my pictures at the Blogadda Travel Photos Competition where I can post only five of my favorite travel photos.

Mickey meets the kids

Tenerife is known for its fiestas and siestas. During my visit, there was this dance and drama festival in the town's public park and people dressed in Disney characters took part in the event, they walked down from the stage and interacted with the audience. Even though the elders knew the people behind the costume, they played along and showed excitement that matched the expressions of children. What I particularly like about this picture is the expression of awe and excitement on children’s faces.

Pinolere Craft Fair

I visited 'Pinolere Craft fair' in the Orotava valley. People dressed in cultural outfits were promoting their heritage and the culture to the tourist. Things made by Spanish craftsmen were on display that included handicraft, pottery, food and souvenir articles. I like the costumes of Tenerife and different suburbs have different costume although it might look the same to an outsider. Spanish are very proud of their culture; in fact, they have some festivals where you cannot even take part unless you are dressed as one. You have to rent out a costume to be able to participate in their traditional events of dance and drink. What I like about this picture is the scene they had created, displaying a typical Spanish rural village with women sitting and chatting after their day chores are done.

Youngsters play at the beach

On the day I visited the San Andres Beach, at Santa Cruz, it was a sunny day. Tenerife has beaches everywhere around the island, some have black sand, some grey and this particular beach had silver white sand that is imported from neighboring island, Lanzarote. I did not swim that day, I just soaked my feet and then came back to rest under tree (yes, there are trees planted at the beach for people to sit under its shade). My nephew stretched out on the sand, sun-bathing while his sister sat next to him, covering him with sand. What I like about this picture is the force of sand as it slips down her fingers.

Day out at Pueblo Chicco

My family and I visited Pueblo Chicco which is closer to Puerto de la Cruz. This is a curious and interesting place. Pueblo Chico is the theme park in Orotava that has all the monuments and important places of interest of Canary Islands designed in miniatures. Attention has been paid to all the details of the actual monuments around the city to build its replicas in miniatures. To give the correct perception of the miniature town that looked so real with building and cars, I asked my family members to stand behind this miniature architecture. What I like about this picture is the intelligence I have used while clicking this picture to show the actual size of the miniature town.

Antique Car Show

One early morning, my brother asked me to come to the store to see the antique car show. I dressed up and went as soon as I could and was amazed to see the row of about 40 cars in the lane outside my store. The cars were in good condition and each car had it own unique features. I went crazy walking up and down the cobbled street, peeping into every car through glass window to see inside of the car and I was not the only one, everybody was doing the same. The otherwise sleepy town had residents walking down this street, some seating on the corner coffee shop and my brother was happy with business he made on that day. What I liked about this picture was this woman who couldn’t stop admiring the car and she went all around the car several times watching it from every angle

There are many more pictures that are equally interesting, but these five were my favorite. I wish to thank Blogada and Pringoo for giving me an opportunity to share my joy.

A day out with children at Prithvis cafe bar

Children looked at me shyly when I smiled at them. I approached them with a mike in my hand asking them to speak to me. I could hear myself loud and clear. Four of them stood with their backs rested against the glass cover of a pastry stand, all facing me with a twinkle in their eyes. Pastry and cakes forgotten, hunger paused. It seemed like they wanted to say something but stage fright held them back, they looked at each other, rolling their eyes, pursing their lips, each of them waiting for their friend to speak.

The first word was difficult to extract and I invented different questions to break the spell. What is your name? What did you do today? Do you know to sing? Do you know any poem? What is your friend’s name and finally asking the child his friend’s name did the trick. One child introduced his friend telling me that his friend was very talented and knew lots of riddles. “Say na, say”, he cajoled his friend. And she spoke, hesitating at first, faltering at every word. When I handed her the mike, she was confident. She spoke with pride, relating the story she had read some days back, her friends listened carefully, nudging her when she erred and later filled in the missing lines. Their fear fizzled out in thin air, shyness wrapped and put away, their muse emerged and all started to talk at once, louder each time, hoping to be heard.

Soon every child wanted his moment of two minutes fame.

‘Bloggers Premier League’ contest

I signed up for contest at BPL ‘Bloggers Premier League’, just out of curiosity. Didn’t know what I was getting into. Earlier I had participated in Blog-a-ton and had submitted few posts there, so I assumed that this would be something similar with group of bloggers in one team writing on the same subject. What I didn’t speculate was that there would be inter-action and we would be planning the content before blogging together and this is what made this interesting


The BPL was divided into six different teams of 10 members each. The names and logo were assigned to each team and with tentative shuffling I fell into ‘Inscribe Tribe’. I didn’t know any member of my team therefore I started visiting the blogs of the team members to get the gist of their writing. Before the actual event we were asked to make a post which wouldn’t be rated as a form of introduction. It said:

“Why not start with some serious fun before settling seriously in to the contest groove. Well That, My dears, you are going to do it yourself! Yes! How about an intro sort of thing with a little bit of self promotion of you and your blogs and a pep talk? Sort of sales pitch? An ad?! Oh no! There will be no marks for these, just pure fun. Just for the purpose of getting to know each other and also sort of warm up, before the real contests. Pure imagination and mischief … but with a small precondition (or rather two), to test your imagination and make it more fun. And ya you get free back links too! It has to be in a skit form or script form, the characters being yourselves .The post will be a single post representing the team. Meaning all of you get to crack your brains over it as a team”

Single post representing the team?, hmmn!! That would mean that we needed to network and discuss amongst each other to write one post. A private group was created on Face Book whereby every member was the administrator and we could post messages and pictures without outsiders peeping into our folders. So much secrecy!! For live discussion, we chose Gtalk. The timing for meeting was scheduled and then would begin our live chat to discuss what we plan to write.

Now my Gtalk was acting funny and I could not connect with other members. I checked into FB private group and started introducing myself while other three members were already chatting amongst themselves. I didn’t know how to get in touch with the rest of the group and I kept writing messages on the FB wall and chatting away at FB as if in mid air, introducing myself with imaginary crowd listening to me…and these people were busy chatting amongst themselves and devising the way to contact me but didn’t know how and I started screaming,”Is anyone there? By Sunday u have to submit the script, but still we have not even stepped on first talk, okay ,loooks like we are all looooooooosers” and immediately, like rescue operators in helicopter, they came, asking my gmail and sending voices and posting messages on my FB wall and suddenly, the messages started popping up on my screen….and before I knew, I was inside the Gtalk, air lifted by these rescue operators and I could read their Live chat.

It was fun chatting with them. We were just four of us and we started planning the skit, wanting it to be a humor piece. We discussed different options and then decided that each of us would write a humorous skit and then select the best. We decided to meet the next day at 4pm. I wrote down the skit after checking out from live chat and working late till 3am. I finished and sent in my skit to the group.

Next day, when we met again, only Diman and I were at Gtalk at 4pm and we started discussing my skit. Soon others joined in, one by one, they all came, as and when they could and gradually everybody started adding flesh to the skit, each one contributing his/her part and the live chat was on till 10pm. The graphic was organized by one team member while writing and putting together by another member, dialogues by another member and content by another. Everybody contributed to the skit. The live conversation was saved and sent to all the members who had missed the conversations and the final draft was written by one of the members at night. It was a great team effort and everybody contributed willingly and finally when the final skit was posted it displayed the creditability of team effort.

The polished post finally appeared on time HERE

Now that is what I would call a true team spirit. It’s a great team where everybody makes enough space for others to express their opinion before taking the final decisions.

At a book Launch

When I had recieved the invitation from Annie Zaidi for her book launch I had decided not to attend if it was not in the suburbs. I have a book store in Bandra and I could always buy a book for me and get it autographed by her. To go all the way to Palledium mall, twenty-five minutes away by Taxi, back and forth would cut a hole into my pocket, doubling the price of the book. Moreover, I have decided some time back that I will not go to south Mumbai too often. There is too much traffic on the road and with the cocktail of heat and dust, it really wears me out.

Few weeks before the book launch of ‘Known Turf: Bantering with Bandits and Other True Tales' I had spend some time with Annie and she had visually tranported me  to the hardship and courage she endured during reportage of dangerous events and how she had taken the effort to actually go out to those rural areas and report the stories of humble folk, who were tortured by hunger, social discriminations of caste and sex, therefore knowing Annie’s launch might be interesting, I decided to attend this one and I was glad I did.

Normally, I see ten to fifteen people for book launch, but this one had more than hundred attendees, some of them standing for two full hours, all listening with rapt attention about her writing style, her sensitivity and courage and in general , responsible writing on rural issues. It was one of the most informative book launches that I had attended. I was inspired to write one of my own and my mind drifted to various issues that I could write too. Maybe, I need to meet up with Annie once again and ask for her guidance.

After the discussion, I rushed over to the book-shelf to pick up my copy. The books were selling by dozens and had to be re-stocked. Everybody was impressed like I was. I saw many friends and acquaintance, writers whom I know closely, writers whom I have met briefly, but what do I speak to them during such brief moments? After getting my copy autographed I didn’t know what else to do? I am surprised at my own strange behavior, because on net, I chat and comment freely and am very friendly to every person on my friends’ list at Facebook, I have an opinion on almost every subject, I may even joke or tease my friends online but when I meet them offline in larger groups, I am switched off into my silent mode. Its not like those of my family and close friends groups where I have so much fun and our converstions never run dry. Here, in these groups, I just don’t know what to say. Seems like I have split personality, haha!!

Me thinking, what do people talk during such occasions? Do they Brag? Gossip? Complain? Ridicule? Or do they discuss books? Many of the people are normally there to look for publishers at these informal meetings and some may even be smart enough to strike a deal. That is, if the are lucky. These meetings are not like those social parties where we pass our time admiring the clothes and jewelry of other people, nor are there any drinks or snacks served that we can nibble on to pass the time and nor is there any music to soothe our nerves. I saw people stand in groups in smaller circles everywhere but I had no courage to include myself in any of those groups to make a bigger circle. Didn't see any warmth anywhere, or maybe I was cold. While I waited for my companion to get her copy autographed, I ventured out to study the magazine rack and wow! We have so many different magazines in India. There were magazines on every subject. Do people have time to read? There is so much information around us, magazines, books, movies, TV, computers, blogs, and social networks. Yet people are so ignorant. The basic understanding and compassion is missing and people are misguided. It pains me to see too much of ego floating around. Phew! I just surfed through the rack and came back looking for my friend.

Whether my friend wanted to hang around or not, I needed to get out as soon as I could so that I could start reading right away. Hello Annie…Me enjoying your book la!! If you are reading my blog, do accept my good wishes too.

Auto-jet-ride

Maybe they get thrills on Mumbai streets with continuous honking, vehicle flying, creeping through the smaller tunnel of traffic, going zigzag, but thud, my butt is three inches above the seat....that’s auto ride, phew!!!

Why do these auto drivers insist on giving roller coaster rides? Do I look the type who cannot afford to go to Disney world?

First of all they are so arrogant. They will go only where they want to go as if they are riding a private jet. I wait at the junction pleading them to take me to my destination, I even wait on the side of the road, in the direction where they are going so that they dont have to take any u-turn, but no, after the refusal from N number of drivers one finally agrees and if I am lucky, I might find one, who is a quiet one, who is just happy to steal innocent glances at me from his rear view mirror. But most of the time they are real badmash. Very, very meany. First of all, they sit cross-legged, riding with only one foot, as if they are sitting on a park bench and then their non-stop rant dotted with their agrressive spits at regular intervals, whole of my Mumbai city they have painted it with dark orange patches, some art galleries on the road there!!! If I complain then he may ask me to get off. I suffer silently. On quiet days, when I need to ruminate, and stitch my thoughts together, their chats are unnecessary diversions and I wish I could have walked instead.

At the end of the journey, I realize their motives of distracting me. They want to charge extra and think I won’t notice. Its funny they never seem to have a rupee coin. They always have two-rupee coin and are willing to give back my one-rupee coin only if I have a rupee to give them back. Most of the times I say ‘keep the change’ but then I feel cheated. Not that one-rupee coin will help buy me a future chalet, but he is cheating many more like me. Imagine if he is doing this trick all day long and on an average he has about fifty such passengers, so at the end of the month he has swallowed Rs1500 without a burp. Aisa thodi na hota hai. Whatever happened to the honest living? Jaane do, what is it for me? Living is expensive and they have to survive.

But, on a second thought, me thinking that would you feel cheated if he refuses to give back the change or am I being unreasonable and sweating over a small stuff??

Joggers' Park at Bandra

Most of the evening I am lazy, I normally sit with a cup of tea in my balcony, watching the sunset, nibbling away on some snack, listening to radio and dreaming of something that I wouldn’t discuss with anyone, not even with my best friend.


But on those days, when I happen to look in the mirror and see my protruding tummy groan at me, I shy away from my image and walk downstairs and circle around my building several times. Many a times I meet my friends who will then get adventurous and suggest a walk by the seashore or at the beach. The Juhu beach, or the promenades of Carter Road and Bandstand are all just auto-ride away and it always turns out a better option and I always return home refreshed and in good humor.

Of all the places, I like Joggers park at Bandra the best. We spend about twenty minutes walking on the sandy path, then go to the birdy area to meditate on birds, and finally settle on the seats facing the sea and watch the sunset. On our way home, we have a warm soup sold from a mobile shop and return in time to watch the late night TV shows.

Birthday Cake

I have never ever cut a cake for my birthday in my life. It’s the thing that I would hate to do, actually it is quite embarrassing for me to do, I have always asked a child standing next to me to cut it for me. But I love baking and decorating cakes. I have decorated cakes with creams, fruits, chocolates and they have always been traditional round or square in shape. Sometimes I have tried few innovative kinds like 2-tier or 3- tier and sometime chopped them into different shapes before icing. But I have always baked them for kids,

But now the kids have grown up and they are no more amused by simple shapes. I was surprised today when I saw this cake

Wow! A cake in the shape of boobs, covered with Bra and tits visible !!! hahaha!, and mind you, it is a vegetarian truffle chocolate cake, specially made for two taureans who are celebrating today. Oh why wasn’t I there to see their expressions, this is something I wouldn’t like to miss., I am sure that these boys who are going to cut these boobs will get naughty and for all we know, they might even enjoy a facial with this one.

Yes, I love cooking!!!

Cooking is quite easy; the only difficult part is preparing oneself to cook. It is unwillingness to walk up to kitchen, wean away from whatever you are doing, (for me to wean away from computer) and get down to serious work of chopping and mixing and rest of the work is done by gas or oven, nothing tiring at all if it doesn’t indulge in back-breaking job of preparing unhealthy fried snacks to go with the meals.

Once the mind is set up, it’s really no big deal to cook. Like today, actually yesterday, I decided that I will have roast chicken for lunch. So, the first part of planning the menu is taken care of. Sometimes, making decision about what to cook is the most difficult part. During planning the menu, we go crazy, asking the family members what they would like to eat and they too are unsure themselves and will quiz us back asking us what we have decided, and it goes like – ‘you tell, no you tell, no you tell’ and when you tell, they might exclaim ‘oh no, not that again’. It is frustrating especially if every member has a different taste. One of my friend cooks different meals for every member of the family, everyday, I marvel at her energy. Just as well, she has a cook to help her with the cooking. But for common person like me, it is difficult just planning the menu. Many times I will walk up to kitchen, open fridge several times, open, close, open, close, hoping that by doing so, suddenly one cooked dish might come alive. But it never does. I know some families who have fixed menus during the week. Mondays-dhal, Tuesday- bhindi, Wednesday-gavar, Thursday- chana, and so on.. There is no gap for creativity, for thinking of something new to make during week-days, creativity is saved for weekends when mind is free to think.

Since I had thought last night that I would make roast chicken today, I had washed and marinated the chicken last night with crushed garlic, ginger, chilies and chicken cubes.

Today afternoon, just one hour before cooking, I went to the kitchen, cut vegetables like cauliflower, tomatoes, bean sprouts, carrots and boiled potatoes and added to the marinated chicken, then added some assorted sauces like black bean sauce, soya sauce, chili sauce and fish sauce. Mixed it added little oil and baked it for an hour. The dish was delicious and nutritious and not a big deal cooking it. Eh?

Cooking is easy, and therefore we see variety of dishes at the table. When the woman is in the kitchen she realizes how little time it really takes to cook and that is why she gets so creative. While she waits for milk to boil, she will be chopping veggies. While the veggies are cooking, she will make few snacks: bajiyas or samosas, or something spicy. And once she gets into the mood, she will make pickles, papads, sweets and other delicacies. And you would think she is tired, but a woman who is thinking of those smiles which she might receive at the end of her labor from her family, will even go to an extend of making deserts and ice creams.

No, women are not lazy at all. The ready-made stuff that is easily available in the market nowadays has made her lethargic, but yes, I love cooking!

Mother's Day

Everybody was screaming on all social networks the wishes, the quotes, some digging into thier archives to find wishes for this day, many of them sendng wishes on the net to their mom who is sitting in the next room. Virtually mothers enjoyed gifts, cakes and even virtual hugs. The flowers were sent, gift bought for mothers who were not net-savvy, who were then treated for a lunch and movie.

Umarried, I have never biologically mothered any child but, I have seen many children grow, who have played in my lap, I have mothered them all, my sisters' brothers' cousins' kids  my eyes still look for those babies who are not there....lost into the adulthood

And I was surprised when I too recieve wishes from some of them and it was a good feeling.

Many years ago, when Mom and I were staying with my brother's family, my brother's kids were very attached to me. On mothers' day they bought gifts for their mother and my brother and I bought gifts for my mother. Since I was mother to none, I didn't recieve any gifts. My four-year-old nephew, was very upset that his dadima  and his mom recieved gifts and his aunt didn't recieve any, so he comes up to me and asks me, "When is the aunts' day coming? I want to buy a gift for you too."

Well aunt's day is still not celebrated anywhere, though they will still remain all time favorites. I used to love all my aunts and I still miss them long after they are not here anymore.

Aunt's love is the extention of mother's love but it needs a special day too. haha!

Mexican Delight

Last night I went to this Mexican restaurant that is recently opened in Bandra, just few minutes away from my house. The décor was good with wooden tables and chairs that reminded me of the restaurants in Tenerife. On one of the walls there was a big wooden shelf with hundreds of sauce bottles, not sure whether they were new bottles or used ones, but it made an impressive collage.

Before our order, they served us a basket of tortillas with two sauces, a bland pink and chilly green. Since it was a new restaurant, the hostess would come to our table to check our satisfaction meter. “Is it good? Yeah?” Now even if it is not good, we would not be too rude to say so, our Indian culture does not allow us to speak the truth to the person who asks so sweetly expecting a compliment. Anyway, we order chicken wings and fajitas. I like it and enjoyed it too. But the friends with whom I went had continuous negative commentary to make.

Although a Saturday night, there were very few clients, which is quite abnormal in the suburbs where people are seen crowding outside the restaurants, waiting for their turns. They were quite disappointed that they didn’t have to wait for the table and got one immediately on entering. They compared this restaurant to the ‘Hard Rock’ which is also a well known Mexican restaurant that has everything comparatively better, the servings, the taste, and the ambiences. While they ate, they talked about things that were wrong with this restaurant and not up to its standards. They debated that the restaurant would do well if it served liquor. The soft drinks were not good and had sprite added to the juice. But still, whenever the hostess came around for a feedback, their comment was always ‘very nice’ with thumbs up.

Well, since I have ever been to ‘Hard Rock’ I was quite content with this one, nevertheless I gulped meekly when they told me that it was very improper and unethical to serve Mexican sauces in steel utensils.

“It kills the taste, you know?” they said

My building going for redevelopment

I have been waiting for this day since last five years. Waiting for the day when all the members in my building will agree to redevelopment and I will get a lift to go up my house. My building is more than fifty years old and it needs regular repairs to keep in shape, also it is quite dirty and I am embarrassed when I get visitors. Whenever I saw new building crop up, I would wish the same for my building. But we had some stubborn neighbours who did not agree to redevelopment, and were always airing negative views, could see only problems associated with it but never the rewards. For five years I have tried to put forth my point that we need to live in a good and clean society.

Finally the day has arrived. All the members have finally agreed to go for redevelopment, we went for democratic voting to maintian transparency and the builder is also chosen, the Satguru builder, whose building I checked out and they are quite good. This means that we will get a bigger house about 33% more space, corpus money and two years rent. It does not mean that I will get richer with extra cash on rent and corpus money that I will recieve. Nah! thats not the case. With newer building, we will have more maintainance tax which will cover the extra help of more watchmen, cleaners and other taxes. The corpus money, if invested wisely, will help me cover those extra costs. While presently, I am paying only Rs20,000 anually, with new construction, I will be paying five folds. The rent that I will recieve, I hope to save, because when I come back, I will need to use that money for interior decoration. So the only benefit I get is one extra room, two lifts and a brand new building with gym, garden and party room.
Now I am in turmoil. Lot of things need to be done before I move out to a temporary accommodation. Packing is the biggest headache. Then I would like to sell off the old furniture because moving to a new house would mean new furniture, what to sell and what to keep is my biggest worry and where to store??. There are too many things in the house: furniture, doors, windows, grills, clothes, dishes, show pieces, books. My routine is about to get disrupted. Should I rent a house or should I travel for two years? Lead a gipsy life?

Even after I am back to a new house, I will have to renovate it to my taste. I will only have modular kitchen and bathrooms in the new house. But will need to make new furniture, paint the house and organize everything all over.

I am confused.

Sorry for using a word .....

....that you don’t understand, but Lexulous does and so does the scrabble. Try it.

Scrabble and Lexulous are the games that are played online, mainly on Facebook. I play it regularly usually as a detour from my regular task of reading and blogging. With strangers I don’t enjoy the game but I like playing with friends, with whom I can chitchat and keep in touch. I have made many good friends on scrabble board and on Lexulous and have been regularly in touch with them. Actually, these games allow many weird words that we will never find in our text books, the trick is to place your letters, sometimes guessing a word, hoping that lexulous or scrabble will understand and voila, sometimes it does. But if it is at the expense of annoying my friends, then that gets me really stressed out because I really hate losing friends. I have very few friends and all very precious, wouldn’t like them to go off at a tangent over a game, which is just a game.

For me winning/losing is not the criteria, I just like to make the best word that I can. I have been playing this game for many years, precisely for more than twenty-five years. The first time I saw this game was during my trip abroad and I was fascinated by tiny wooden tiles. I played that game immediately and lost miserably but fell in love with it. I bought my first scrabble board, a tiny travel board with tiny tiles and holes on the board to fix the tiles ( this board and tiles, neatly saved and restored, are still lying at my home in Tenerife, Spain, hibernating and they come alive only when I visit my family)

During my college years, I taught this game to all my friends and we would play this game non-stop for days and sometimes all night. We allowed dictionary so that we could learn new words and we always played for fun; snacking and fooling in-between games. Over the years, I learnt some tricks on how to confuse the opponent and win the game. I taught those tricks to my friends too who would use it against me and make me lose. In Mumbai, I joined scrabble club, where we would play it regularly and even participated in many scrabble tournaments, much of which I lost. But I was never offended if I lost and always came out stronger each time.

Most of the time it is pure luck that we may get good combination to be able to make seven-letter word which gives an impressive score. It is not the deciding factor for showing off the intelligence or word power, nor are there any laurels to be won. The opponents who play with me regularly are equally good, and they do have impressive scores and rankings, so there is nothing to feel egoist about winning. But most of the time I am lucky. (maybe because I am unlucky in love. Huh?) I have some friends who continue to play with me and before one game ends they have already started a new one. They tell me that it is challenging playing with me and I get aggressive too.

But lately I have been offending my friends by winning. Now I can’t play badly and let my friends win, can I? That will not be fair. I don’t understand why they get so discouraged by my winnings? Why can’t they get aggressive and fight back? Why do they have give up on me? Must they always win and play with only those whom they can beat easily? Don’t they like challenges any more?

And why do I get stressed out if they give up on me? Now that is the question I need to introspect.

Diamonds are not forever

Finally I gave up my fetishism on diamonds.

It was difficult at first, what with me belonging to the culture (I am Sindhi) where diamonds play an important deciding factor for placing you at certain strata of society and earning that false respect. The bigger diamond meant a respectable position in Sindhi community, a front door entry to any important religious meetings, an admiring friend’s circle hovering around you, even though you might not part with a centimeter of your carat with them. Ah well.

But diamonds were my best friends, even though I could not compete with my rich cousins. Every time, my cousins flashed their real diamond jewelry I would secretly wish to buy me a better stuff. But my limited budget allowed me to live within my means (as my mom would often say, not to destroy my shack by building castles in air). Nevertheless, by the time, I reached middle age, I had enough of everything. Enough I say because I was satisfied with what I had, and I had everything in diamonds: ear-rings, rings, bracelets, watches, bangles, necklace, pendants, though not those big, huge carats, nah, they were not as impressive as my rich cousin’s booties, but was decent enough, some gifted by my mom, aunts, sisters, some inherited and some, I know not how they arrived at my tijori. I had planned to buy me some more really big ones, those fancy ones that you see in the shopping window, hoping some day in future (when I became truly Richie rich) I would own that too, until one day, suddenly my taste took a U-turn from gaudy to subtle, and it was thinking whether it was really so important to carry such heavy stuff on my neck and on my ear lobes that was dangling so much with its weight that I need doctor’s help to prevent it from becoming a torn chappati. I decided that I don’t really need it. Specially since it was also giving me unnecessary stress.

Now let me explain. What use is wearing all those real diamond-sets that cover your every possible skin so much, that people cannot see you beyond those glittering stones? And you are so busy flashing them, that your topic of conversation is limited to fashion and shopping, while your subconscious mind is eagerly waiting for the compliment that may not arrive from your envious friends. And then you are always living in fear of losing your possessions so much so that you become too obsessive in guarding them. You become vigilant about your cupboard keys and are always hiding the keys in such odd places that you cannot find them yourself. And when you have misplaced it somewhere, you start suspecting everybody: Your maid, your guest, your friend. Okay, you will tell me that I can keep them in bank locker. Then what the bloody hell is the use of freezing them if I cannot wear them? You advice me that it is important to save it for the bad times. So should I wait for those bad times when I can happily cash out diamonds and release them from lockers?

Instead of spending money on diamonds and freezing them in lockers, I have discovered a better value for money. Investing the money in proper way in funds and bonds and see it grow, yielding regular dividends gives special kind of pleasure. It is fun to travel with that extra cash in style. Buy some luxury items to enhance the atmosphere: nice bed spread, good curtains, jacuzzi. And sharing the excess cash with less fortunate and winning their million dollar smile is an heavenly experience.

Also, I am enjoying shopping for artificial costume jewelry, nothing flashy but classic, yes. I like that. No worries about guarding it, hiding it, storing. If it gets lost, I don’t care, I get one more reason to buy another one. I can now concentrate on reading and on other things that I can truly enjoy.

And to enjoy the company of people who can see and hear, just me.

Lunch out at 'Banana Leaf'

It is rude to look at other people’s table to see what they are eating but this is something which most diners cannot avoid, especially if you are visiting the restaurant the first time and want to know why it is so popular that you had to wait for about twenty five minutes for the table to clear for you.

‘Banana Leaf' was as curious to me as its’ name. The food was served on a banana leaf with the tastiest south Indian Cuisine. It said in the menu card that “the name conjures aroma of the yummiest mouth watering delights of southern flavors. As the meal comes to you in ‘Vazhaillai’ a freshly cut banana leaf, the traditional experience transports you to southern states of India. Eating out of Banana leaf requires combination of reflex, skill and practice and the benefits are multiple, clean and hygienic”

Some time ago, my friend had suggested this restaurant to me saying that this one was most famous for its Appam and vegetable curry. As soon as we entered the restaurant my friend warned me that the food was good but was over priced. Which I didn't think so cause that extra charge must be for the ambience and the service, and both were good. The waiters were friendly too (one even posed for my camera haha!) and he was the one who suggested the dishes that were good and popular amongst the diners and was cooked with care and interest and he was the one who suggested that I have Appam with spicy vegetable curry, although personally, I think that the next time I go, I might try Appam with veggies in coconut curry. Ahem!

The restaurant had great décor with graphic on the wall, (which made enjoyable time pass practicing my reading skills) but the tables were quite close to each other and it was distracting (especially if the person on the next table burbs too loud such that you almost get soffocated and choke on your meals). hahaah! just kidding! The food was spicy. We had raw mango juice that has tangy flavor, and we order khichdi and uttappa. What I liked the most was the free assortment of chutneys like garlic chutney, mint chutney, coconut chutney and rasam. The service was quick and the pan that they served after lunch melted in the mouth leaving a minty taste.

It’s a good place to take my NRI vegetarian guests for lunch. And it is not very far from my house, on the back lanes of four bangalows, in Varsova, it takes me just fifteen minutes to reach there from Bandra. I am going again, as for my guests, they will like it, I am sure.

A free Entertainment

Nothing comes free and that I am sure, time and again I have been fooled many times and each time disappointed. I have learnt this long ago but how do I explain to my friend who is always looking for freebees and tagging me along? And Me, never able to refuse, always suffer a silent death. This evening was a free pass to some musical show-cum-stage show and my friend calls me up to accompany her to this show. Now I had already reserved this evening for a book launch at Crossword. I wanted to attend this launch because I was attracted by the title and the promising story of 5 Sindhi ladies. A book called ‘Beyond Diamond rings' by Kusum Choppra. Here I was asking my friend to accompany me to this book launch and she was flashing free passes. I finally relented, just rushed to crossword, picked up the book, could not meet the author (since they are late comers and don’t start the program as schedule, supposed to start at 7pm but till 730, there was no sign of the author nor any audience, just a flute player playing music till the author arrives, I would have loved to hear her talk about what inspired her to write this book and which was her favorite passage) anyways, my friend couldn’t wait for me to enjoy such luxuries, so I rushed off with her to attend this show at Rabindra Natya Mandir at Prabhadevi

I was surprised by the loud music of drum being played at the entrance to welcome the guests. There were cameras flashing at every guest. Never before have I attended any stage show with such loud reception. I asked her whether we were attending some festival or some wedding occasion, but all she knew was that she was attending some show that was free and it had snacks and drinks on the house too. I just followed her, picked up my share of snack and drinks and entered the auditorium to wait for the program to start.

We sat near the exit and watched every guest that entered the auditorium. It seemed like a fashion parade. Most of the audience was either Sikh or Punjabi, and every body was a guest. Well, it turned out that this was just a promotion program for the upcoming TV serial to go on air on Doordarshan from 13th April onwards at 10pm, every Tuesday. The TV serial on life of 'Maharaja Ranjit Singh'. The 52 episode serial by Ral Babbar Film pvt limited, is a historical epic story of Ranjit Singh, the warrior who protected the borders from Ladakh to Punjab. A few hundred Sikhs, living on their horsebacks were ever ready to challenge the might of the invaders. The Sikhs were victims of a number of massacres both at the hands of the Mughals as well as the Afghans, which only made their resolve stronger.

So here I was, not attending any stage-play or musical show but attending a serial-promotion show. No Surprises then that drinks and snack were free and the program was fully sponsored by serial producers.

Over the next two hours, we heard different people relating the story and the behind the scene stories, Jaggit Singh who has sung for this serial gave a part of his performance, and then we were introduced to all those people who contributed to this serial and finally some film shots on the big screen.
Ah so boring…well, it was free.. so no complains.

However, I think I would have still preferred the reading at the Crossword.

Exotic Meals

When cooking is a pain, salad is the better option and happy that I like salads because it is just boil and mix.

Last night I went for marketing and brought lots of veggies. When I was back home after shopping, I organized everything immediately, boiled those small potatoes and steamed corn and fresh mung.

In the morning I was ready to make salad for me. Mixed boiled potatoes, steamed mung and steamed corn, added sprouts, tomatoes, cucumber, bell pepper and carrots, added dried herbs, lime juice and salt, mixed little mustard oil and served with millet crackers and dip.

I make small quantity of dip at a time. Normally my friends use hung yogurt. But I just take a normal yogurt, add cream cheese. Next add black pepper, salt and dried herbs and little bit of coriander leaves.

I just had salad and noodles soup. It’s a complete meal and I kinda enjoy it, a day without too much of masalas and no headache of cooking too.

Classic Shopping

Last week I went with my NRI guest to a private fashion designer to see her new range of private collection. She had suits, kurtis and saris, all artistically embroidered with colorful stones, crystals and gold/silver cords and lace. The workmanship was quite neat, so was her price. Each suit was not less than seven grand and some as high as twenty to thirty grand. She showed us the collection of about ten different items, of which my guest bought one sari, one suit and one embroidered blouse. She spent total of forty-five grand.

This week I went with another NRI guest for shopping. We went to Palliadium, the new mall at Pheonix mills at Parel. The mall reeks of luxury, shiny floors and sparkling windows. But where are the shoppers? This is the new mall which will house branded fashion designers. Should I quote the price? Ah! I entered one store and liked one sari but after seeing the price tag, I decided I don’t like it. I would never be able to afford two hundred grand for a sari/suit which I would not have an occasion to wear more than once. Who has spoilt our Indian market? Blame it on NRI’s. Only women with Dollars/Euros will be able to afford such luxury. But wait a minute; I did see few Indians too. They went into the stores, studied the designs and I presumed that they were the fashion designers who would clone these designs and sell it at cheaper price from their private garage.

In Mumbai, there are many such women who work from home. All they need is good tailors, good collection of fashion catalogues, a nice camera to capture the designs when the salesman is not watching and few friends who can spread the word around for them. My friend tells me that latest trends can be copied from popular TV serials. But, to my knowledge, all the clothes that are worn by actors in TV serials are freely available in those common markets at Santa Cruz, Bandra, Breach Candy and Dadar.

But real trendy and latest designs can only be found in designer studios or in private homes.

This week we went to many designer studios and my guest splurges at every store and spends ninety grand in one day! Her shopping included just one sari, few suits, footwear, and two branded purses. Wow!

I blessed my stars for not having such expensive taste. Actually, expensive stuff doesn’t suit me.

I just wear a smile.

Tofu..I seem to like it

It is soft.

Well, it depends on the type I am having right now, but it is much, much better than paneer, actually I don't like paneer and I eat it only when I have to...that is when it is too rude to refuse.

Therefore I was happy to get some great tips on getting a perfect bite

and even more happy when another friend willing shared her recipe of tofu with bell pepper with me

Ah! It is easy to go veggie when there is no competition.

When you visit me next time, remind me to cook tofu for you. Of course it will be different, and better, *wink* my estyle....Nobody can beat my cooking estyle, for that I am sure. *giving you a happy grin*

Boarders at war

Early morning while brushing my teeth, my boarder says “What time can you be free? I want to talk to you”

Now, I am at home most time of the day, from Mondays to Fridays, unless I have some important errands to do. Nobody needs any appointment to talk to me.

I tell her “Shoot, I am all ears.”

“No, first you get free then I have to tell you something.” She says and she disappears into her room.

I quickly rinse my mouth, wash my face, towel it and walk into her room.

“What is it?” I ask

“Is there no discipline in this house? Don’t you have any rules for your boarders?” she says.

I do have rules for the boarders who occupy my spare room. There are only three main rules which I expect my boarders to follow: Tidy up the kitchen after use, be back home before 12 midnight and none of their visitors are allowed inside my house.

I looked at her in askance on introducing some more rules.

“I am unhappy with my room mate” she says, “She is watching TV late nights, sometimes up to 2am, continuously shifting channels. I cannot sleep with flickering lights. Is there no discipline in this house? I think you should introduce strict hours for watching TV. I suggest that there should be no TV after 11pm.”

Just then her room mate emerges from bathroom and enters the room.

“Look, here is complain, your room mate is unhappy about your late night TV hours” I tell her

“And I am too,” she says.

“Now, what complain do you have?” I ask her

“I am uncomfortable because she is too lazy and keeps her part of the area too untidy. I don’t like clutter in this room but she won’t listen.”

I look around and I understand what she means. The bed-sheet is wrinkled; the dressing table is cluttered with books, water-bottles, combs, creams, medicines, etc.

“Cluttered room is cluttered mind’” I tell her, “Lets make a deal. You keep your room clean and she will put off TV by 11p.m”

Then follows the argument for next ten minutes: insensitivity towards each other’s comfort (you don’t understand my problems), lack of communication (why didn’t you tell me first?), compromise (I will do it your way only if you do it mine)

Today, their room was clean and tidy, the lights have gone off at 11pm.

Silence!

She is a graceful lady

“Can you give me a print-out of that photograph that you just click of me?” said Mrs Tara peeping into my digital camera.

I looked closely at the picture. I was complimenting myself for my photography skills. The deep lines on her face were clearly etched, the silver of her hair and her smile matched ditto to her real self. She looked very beautiful and her smile was an added attraction

“Sure! How many copies do you want?” I asked

“Just give me only one, if you can enlarge it for me, I would be very grateful to you.” She said

“You see,” she continued, “I want to frame it and keep it with other things. When I die I don’t want people to keep ugly pictures of me. I know lots of people and they all might come for my funeral, it will look good if I have this picture smiling at my friends. I have kept aside all the things that will be required to dress me up: one sari, one slipper, one hair buckle and the money required for my cremation, only I didn’t have a good snap of me. If I die suddenly, then I don’t want to trouble my people looking for things for me therefore I have made all the arrangements”

I was impressed by her independence and her self reliant attitude. Mrs Tara has glow on her face. She is fair, short, wrinkled and must be about 75 years (my wild guess) but she is very talented. She is an artist.

Some months ago, I have visited her home and her house was filled up with oil paintings, every area of her small room was clustered with paintings. Proudly, she showed me each and every painting in her room, relating a story behind each one. She lives alone in her small apartment and tutors young people during her free time, conducting painting classes.

Every Wednesday and Thursday, she comes to school to teach mentally challenged children to draw and paint, (free of charge), travelling in public bus and walking the rest of the distance.

Always ready to help, she is very patient with children. I have known many other women of her age, but they have retired years ago, visiting temples instead. Many women, half her age complain of aches and pains and their inability to perform any task gracefully, but this is one lady who never complains. I admire her strength.

I strive to be as active as she is when I reach her age. She is my unsung hero.

Travel bug beckons

I have never been to Canada although I have admired Niagara falls for umpteenth time. I have envied the people who have worn those fancy transparent raincoats and sailed through the stream, wiping of the droplets of water sprays from their face. I wonder if I will ever see it or experience it in this life time.


Until I saw this

Now I am glad that there is similar experience can be witness in India as well.
I would love to see this

And this

I don't even have to sail in any boat, I can just watch it from a distance...lovely!!

Yeah…This breath taking natural picturesque splendor located at a road distance of 65 Kms from Trichur (Kerala) & 60 Kms from Cochin International airport! Must, must go and see it...

I have asked my family to plan a trip to south India..we could go down right up to the tip at Kanyakumari. India is so beautiful, there is really no need to travel abroad.

Survival

Some weeks ago, I decided to take a boat from Mora Village to Mazgoan docks. This is the shortest route to come to South Mumbai, which would otherwise take more than two hours, While I waited for the boat to arrive, I was watching the fisher-women at the docks and was amazed with the hard work that they put in. Mumbai, being a coastal region, fishermen go to the seas for fishing (sometimes for days) while women help in selling the fish. The work is shared equally by them and they are quite cheerful and happy to help each other.

My friend, who was with me, was attracted by the freshness of the fish (some of fishes were still wriggling in her basket) and prawns. She wanted to buy the fresh prawns but the women quoted very high rates (Rs300 for half kg of king size prawns). She refused to bring down her prices claiming that if she went back the next day to south Mumbai, she would get good price. While she sorted her catch, her man went and brought large chunk of ice, broke it into smaller pieces and helped her pack the fish so that it would remain fresh the next day. She told us that she would wake up early morning at 5am and make her journey towards town to sell her fish.

Some of them go to the market to sell the fish while others go from door to door. Women who come from far off suburbs use local train (luggage compartment) for commuting. Some of them have formed their own society and rent a transport (a tempo or a truck) to reach their market.

It was evening time and the man looked quite tired but he continued to help her.

“Your man works quite hard, I must say” I said, impressed by the efficiency of his work.

“He is not my man” she said, “We work as a community, we normally live as mixed groups where there is team work involved. The work is divided equally but it is never reversed. We don’t go for fishing at the seas nor do the men look after the house and babies”.

Although fisherwomen traditionally do not go out to sea, ancillary activities as critical as fishing itself - fish processing, vending, marketing, net-making, and so on - are primarily in women's hands.

“Don’t you think that your prawns are overpriced? Why are you selling it so expensive?” I asked her

She was quite annoyed with my queries and complained that there were no more fishes in the sea.

I did not believe when she said that there were no more fishes in the sea. How could that be?

But on googling I understood what she meant.

The current market-friendly reforms aimed at opening up India's coasts to large-scale commercial exploitation have posed a grave danger to the survival of these communities.

The fall in fish stocks as a result of indiscriminate mechanized trawling is the single-most worrying factor for the fishing community, and its impact on women is direct and brutal. The government has opened the coast to foreign trawlers that harvest all the fish. Private companies have taken over their traditional occupations, like net-making and fish processing. As a result they are sometimes left without fish and without work. Fisherwomen - who earlier sold the catch that the community's men brought in from the sea - are now forced to buy fish from large contractors.

With fish disappearing from the seas, fishermen face a loss of productive activity. In frustration, they turn to alcoholism. They borrow money for gambling. Their bitterness is an additional burden for fisherwomen, who struggle to hold their families together and cope with increased wife-beating and desertion.

So, what does the woman do? She was here now, almost 7pm in the evening, packing her basket for the next day. She would go home, cook dinner for her family, clean her house, put her family to sleep and would wake up 4am in the morning to go to town to sell to fish and bring some cash.

And here I was cribbing about the price of prawns not understanding the problems of a common fisherwoman, who though not educated, knew how to survive, balancing the home life and her working hours and wanting to handle the likes of me with grace.

Here we were, my friend and I, haggling about the price when we would buy the same without any fuss at the market place.