You’ll find it so funny if I admit this, Mi. I was happy to make rotis today. Hence the rottine–you know. (Courtesy Sury of course). I asked him if he found it amusing that I enjoyed making the rotis today and he quickly said of […]
Memories from another day . . .
Does that even make sense? Yes, it does, Mi, because that’s exactly what we tried to do. And succeeded. But let me begin from the beginning.
So as usual, U and I, during one of our marathon phone calls laughed our heads off over how often we make plans but don’t always follow through. Sure we meet, but rushing around with not enough time is always the norm. This time we promised ourselves that we will meet and do a leisure time pass around our area. However, we being we, we did make a list because you know how there are always chores to do.
Predictably, we had to reschedule as I had to hang around at home to receive an important speed post. But no sooner than it arrived, we took off. As we tackled our stuff, we caught up on our stories. While we do that on the phone, it really makes such a difference to meet up and laugh together, no? We had intended to go to the mall but decided to postpone that for the following day and instead, spent time at the market indulging in window shopping.
We bought jamuns, by the way, from a really nice lady near Food Camp. What joy when the vendor is kind and allows us to pick. Total deal breaker.
We had a most enjoyable time. Around 5, it looked like it might rain and at the first drizzle, we jumped into an auto and headed home, only to find that it was a weather tease. Promising to meet again the next day, U left.
And guess what? This is the punchline = we met the next day after an early lunch. What peace we have when we’ve completed morning household stuff! I made bhindi ka saalan and paratha. Must make mirch and arbi ka saalan one of these days.
We had a pleasant time at the mall—replete with family gossip and all. At one point, when we were talking about you, we stopped in our tracks and cried! Can you imagine? It all started with me telling U how fond you were of her and how you would have appreciated her planning today. Then we talked about her mom and the crying continued for a while. We decided we must come back again here soon and exited, to go have a snack before we returned home.
We scolded each other for not doing this often when we very well could. But life always gets in the way, right? By the way, P is graduating next month and of course, U will be going. Can you imagine her married? So cute. M will also graduate in Aug but the date isn’t fixed yet. It’s amazing to see these kids all grown up and managing their lives. Sigh.
Soon Vidur will finish his course–he has one more year to go. How quickly the four years seem to have gone. We hang on to the moments when he’s home. Letting go sucks, Mi. Really it does. I remember those days when you’d say you missed Vidur when school reopened after the summer vacation. I’d tease you saying he’ll be back home before you know it. At 2.45 you’d pace the corridor waiting to hug him with the front door open. I know how you felt. And I imagine how it would have been if you’d been home now–when he’s studying on campus in a different city. You’d probably monopolize the phone calls. ♥
We fantasize about these what ifs, you know? Sometimes I think it is so unfair. When I think that we can only be sure of our kids being home until the 12th grade, it is scary. When Vidur joined the five-year course, it was heart-breaking to come back home after his admission and see all his stuff all over the place, without his presence. Yet life goes on, does it not? All said and done, we want him to get a good education and do well in life.
Sigh. Coffee, please.
The photo above is from a trip to the zoo–it was mesmerizing and very soothing to see the tortoises absolutely still on the log. As if time stood still and waited.
So, based on the success and the happy reception of the besan-coconut-almond burfi, I decided to do a “repeatay”, Mi. After all, who doesn’t want to replicate a good thing? Also, the first batch left a craving behind, after its abrupt disappearance. Thus, yesterday morning […]
It’s nostalgia week of sorts, Mi. I was in Bombay for two days and was so tempted to run across to see Little Flowers’, but didn’t have the time. I resolved to go see it next time I am there. By the way, I ate a mulberry and remembered how, in school, we’d pluck all the berries we saw on the hedge and chomp on them, hardly caring that some might be inedible. Such simple days.
I reminisced about those years when someone asked me why I wanted to visit the school. Besides having studied there, it was cute to recall that two generations from our family had gone to that school. You and your cousins and then me and my cousins. And then, the cherry on the cake was you being my teacher and your teacher being my teacher and godmother. Wonderful memories.
I don’t know if Rosy teacher is still alive. And that thought gives me the heebie-jeebies. I still have the book she gave me, you know. Spartacus. And of course who can forget how she took the responsibility of boiling an egg every day during recess at school! And how Celine teacher and D’Abro teacher took it upon themselves to tailor my birthday frocks! I remember all those frocks you know! My favorite was the blue lace one with the frills and bows and the puffed sleeves! And the satin ribbons.
Did I tell you that I am using your peeler these days? Have been for quite some time now. I see why you preferred it now. Safer to use it. I realized I was losing skin each time I used the one I used to prefer. Also the grater. Gosh!
If you’re wondering about the sudden topic switch, I cut one huge papaya in honor of Mother’s Day today, all the while thinking about how much you enjoyed the fruit. Remember how I used to get it from that fellow on 8th main? He would kindly peel it for me every time and pack it and keep it so I could pick it up on my way back from dropping Vidur at school. Then we would both cut it into pieces and enjoy ourselves. I had papaya and almonds for breakfast today!
I am planning to make baghaare baingan. I know you’ll be so proud of me for being an enthusiastic and experimental cook! And of course, I also know you will not be surprised because you always expected me to be one. I thank you for that because you are always my inspiration for most things and especially my time in the kitchen. I realize why you were happiest when you lovingly cooked all sorts of wonderfully delicious dishes! I am super-grateful I’ve inherited this at least partially from you. I certainly love cooking for Vidur, who enjoys his food so much. How I wish you were with us to see him all grown up with a strong mind of his own!
I really enjoy imagining how you would have reacted to various situations we go through, you know. And I am quite sure your innate wisdom would have kept us grounded a little better than we are, now.
I always maintain that god could not be everywhere, so he made mothers–and I am glad you are mine.
It’s so hard to believe that you’ve been gone for nine years–and I feel all choked up every time I think of that week in Feb 2010.
Wish you were here. Happy Mother’s Day to you and me!