Christmas- Cakes and cookies!

Curving the finger around the curved bottom of the bowl, the little girl plucked the leftover of the cake mix and licked it.  Uncombed hair, a short frock and winter dry skin- this picture, I am sketching is not of a road side girl at the traffic signal. It was me, years and years ago!

Having gone to schools run by Christian missionaries, Christmas was a magical time for me when I was growing up. This and having a friendly Christian neighbour added to the excitement. My mother learnt how to bake from her and whenever I was not slipping into their house for Christmas baking leftovers, Ma was trying out the new recipes and I had enough to lick on! I was an avid fairy tale reader so even though I did not get cakes and cookies through the year I had enough imagination to feed on.

 

I don’t remember when I took over the baking things from Ma. I dare say it was when I entered my teens and Ma was too busy to regularly bake. It was like a chemistry class, everything had to be correctly measured and I had to follow the exact direction (this was frustrating- I hate following instructions!) and then time after time the cakes would come out perfect. (Of course whenever I was rebellious it would cave on or some other disaster would happen) I would still lick the bowl clean!

Soon I was promoted to Ma’s position and my little girls would lick the bowls clean. I regrettably gave up on that! Years of baking cakes and cookies followed. The girls still fight about who got more number of shaped cakes on their birthdays! I must confess I used to eat the last bit of the cookie dough even till very recent times. I did experiment with icing and a few types of cakes, but I was the proverbial Taurus who is set in her ways and finds comfort in the known recipes.

 

Now the little girls were growing up, they first started helping me beat the egg and then graduated to making the complete mix. I was very soon faced with an empty nest and I lost interest in baking. The only baking, I did was for the birthdays if they were with me!

The young ladies now started experimenting and making different cakes. (But for comfort food they went back to my cake!)

It is Christmas time again! I am lucky to have my young adult with me and will get my still TT soon before Christmas. Chicks decided to bake some ginger bread cookies in the spirit of the festival. The I-pad came out and all the ingredient were set out (without my help) and the evening was spent in the kitchen (while I played on my HOG games!) Lo and behold in two hours I had warm ginger bread cookies to hog on! 

Now I was the child, stealing the cookies as they cooled on the rack. I was warned not to touch it! I was warned that she had counted them and would know if I stole more! I was chased out of the kitchen umpteen times…….

The pleasure of eating the cookies were overwhelmed by memory and nostalgia. I remembered the Christian Aunty (that’s what we used to call her!) giving me small pieces of cakes and freshly baked bread when I went to her house and watched her make them. I remember her taking me to church and visit the pastor. The Pastors wife had a wonderful doll collection in a glass cabinet…… random memories came chasing one another.

Christmas was always a cold time when the woollies came out. The sun would be nice and warm as we played hop scotch and hide and seek. Now of course it’s too warm for the woollies to come out and the bones too old to take the weight of one jump! Christmas may have lost its magic but a faint whiff of  chocolate, cinnamon and vanilla remains in some long forgotten corner of my brain to trigger off a series of thoughts which lets me wallow in pleasure.

 

 

 

The Ghost Pal

The ceiling fan chugged on; on the hot humid day it struggled to push the heavy hot air (I always knew that cold air is heavy!) aside and around to cool my sweat dripping mind and body. I sighed! I had just finished cooking an elaborate lunch, had a hurried bath and was looking forward to stretching out on what is called “the Marshmallow “by the third adult of the family. But the fan was just not giving me the coolness I required to let my cells loose and relax. I pushed my creaking bones to get up and find the remote to switch on the air conditioner but just then the fan took pity on me and started whirling at its full speed! I was too tired to question its efficiency and enjoyed it to the fullest and saved on my electricity bill.

This was the first time I noticed this. But it became a regular thing- when I entered the room or just sat on the bed the fan would be an old man! But after a few minutes- if I deigned to continue sitting in the same room it would hurl itself against the wind and cool me down! I tried to argue with all the science that I had learned in high school – that it was just the voltage fluctuating! But the same “scientific mind “argued back “why was this not happening with any other fan in any other room?”

One day the family head, passed a comment, that this fan was really terrible. I had just came in to take my morning stretch on the marshmallow. I joked ‘Now that I have come it will work!” believe it or not it started dancing about fast and voila! I was cool.

I have always had this sixth sense when it comes to spirits and ghost throughout my life. From the time I was five or six I have had some kind of eerie experience. I think I have written about a couple of them. I always know when I enter a new place if its “different”. This new house had none of the markers that I associate with the supernatural and I had forgotten about this facet of mine for the first four months that we had lived here.

 

I really don’t know whether this episode is a ghost or the faulty electric conductors on the fan! But I can sense no presence and my comfort levels are not disturbed. But then never has my comfort levels been disturbed. I am very aware of all the spirits that swirl about in the air around me but they are like the sunlight- it’s there but it is no sort of an impediment to existence! I have only had one malevolent and one scary experience with this new dimension otherwise it’s been symbiotic experience.

There are too many co incidences in life, too many Deja vus to be explained away with scientific precision. I am fascinated with this dimension and as I devour all materials written on this, I hope that one day, during my life time, we are able to find some kind of communication system (I do not believe in séances!)

I can hear the snorts and sniggers from many of you but that does not disturb me because unless you move out of your comfort zone of four dimension will you be able to experience the nth dimension!

Meanwhile my friendly ghost makes the fan go at whatever speed I require and lets the bells on my window chime jingle merrily with the wind J

 

The Traffic Signal

The old man with thick lenses shuffled up to the car window with his palm open. He held a few agarbathis (Incense sticks) in the other hand. His skin was rough and wrinkled and the expression pitiful. Silently I paid my conscience money and felt good to see the smile on his face when I refused to take the agarbathis in exchange.

Hypocrite! My mind screamed at me silently.

 “What are you doing anyway? Paying for your comfort?” mocked the torturous mind.

The soul sadly agreed with its eternal foe and said, “Like paying your electricity bill for your cold comfort, you pay the old man to ease your uncomfortable conscience!”

I always have these tussles at the traffic signals. It is here I see a part of my country which does not fill me with pride. The obviously pregnant teenage girl, carrying a small child, begging; the little boy with the twisted arm, begging; the well dressed and made-up eunuchs, begging; and of course the aged on the last legs of life, begging.

After watching slum dog millionaire I had become very callous. I imagined that all these people are employed by the beggar mafia to earn for them and refused to hand out money. It’s especially irritating that when you give money to one child another five turn up for their share of my conscience money. But lately as I grow older, I cannot bear to see the aged begging and go on doling out whenever and how much ever I can.

The world I believe is filled with two kinds of people- the givers and the takers. It’s not only about money. It’s about emotions and happiness. Most of my life, I have been a taker (I think I still am!) I have taken love, happiness and money without giving it a thought. I have taken it for granted and as a part of my rights and privileges! I have given (Hopefully I have!) but not to the extent that I have received.  From my Parents, sister, husband and children – I have taken life, love, happiness, care and sympathy without a second thought. Am I then like the beggars? Opening my hand and heart and accepting what has been given to me with a smile?

Are we all like the small microcosm of the traffic signal? Giving and taking? Bears introspection, doesn't it?

According to the season, I get to see the strawberry / mango / sugarcane/ apricot sellers there too. I have fun with them! Whatever price they ask I simply divide it by two and I am usually surprised that they agree! I am sure they have done their market research and know how exactly to handle the varied type of clientele! As it is much cheaper than the shops I buy them from, I am happy and they are happy too- win-win situation. They have no establishment cost and hence can reduce their profit margins drastically for some customers. Many people (mostly men) are in a hurry and assume these people are anyway cheap and pay them whatever they ask for. So here they get hundred percent profit.

I have read a few articles on these vendors. How they are irritating, how they ruin the economy, how they have a mafia by themselves but never a word of appreciation about the heat and dust they face all the time! How much they have to pay the local police to be allowed to vend in these dangerous circumstances. I wonder how much money they make. Where they live? Do they save?

 I think they live for the moment (what most lifestyle gurus advise us to do!) never worry about the future and in time become like the old beggar.

In one of my old blog posts I had written about the families who live on the footpath. Their trials and tribulations and their happiness and serenity! Well I saw one such family in Santacruz. Ten years back when I had first moved to Mumbai, I used to live there and go for walks. I used to see a small family selling toys at the traffic signal. They lived on the corner of the pedestrian way. They just had had a baby and it was permanently in a small sari made cradle (Unwashed and dirty). The wife was young and pretty (though very very dirty). 

I had gone there recently and was waiting at the signal. The family was still there! There were three children playing and another one in the sari cradle! The smiling wife was still smiling (a few grey hairs had crept in!) she was still dirty but now she was cooking. The man was still selling toys with the little boys helping him carry his stuff. They toys were different; more techno smart and colourful and now only people in the autos and motorcycles looked at them.

The interesting thing was he was selling small alphabet booklets and colouring books for pre-K children too. I saw the third child flipping through some of the books near its mother. Will he read them or learn to read them? Will he get educated and try to get out of the kind of life they were leading?

The light turned green and the wife yelled at the children to get away. They nimbly jumped out of traffic’s way into their safety zone.

I hear India has advanced very far in the Economic arena. We are the third largest tourists in the world. We have a growing number of billionaires. Our middle class is one of the richest. Yet I see this picture every time I step out of my home.

Could some venture capitalist finance some new ideas to remove poverty and helplessness? I am sure some app could be developed to gouge out this black spot in our economic horizon. Apple, I believe has had one of the largest profit margins in India this year!

I have seen many companies trying to alleviate such sufferings in their own way. But are we doing enough? In ten years we have not changed the life of one pavement dweller! Where are all the societies hiding? We have millions being spent on advertisement for “equal streets” movement and not a few thousand to give to this family?

I think it’s time to introspect and ask when the good times will come. When skating on roads causing traffic jams elsewhere will lead on to concrete plans for every child and not only for the select few? When real estate advertisements stop talking about LSF (Life Style Factor) for your child and focus on Corporate Social responsibility?

I continue to squirm uncomfortably.... 

 

“DO YOU WORK?”

I have the time to stare and watch these days!

“What do you do the whole day?” a very common question aimed at me for the last four years is starting to get less and less irritating. Unfortunately I still haven’t framed a pert rejoinder to the query! I am working on it.

The young ones (college going, pre married and newly working ones) never ask me, maybe because they are not interested enough or they are at that age, self-centered! I love to spend time with them; they are normally positive and full of their experience in life. The newly married ones and new moms are also fine- they are busy with their lives and they believe, their problems are paramount and insurmountable! So O.K. they don’t pay too much of attention to how I spend my time!

It’s the rest of the world who are sometimes tiring with their predictable question (notice the singular “question”!)

I have had a very ordinary and predictable life. Studied, married, had children, worked for some time and now…….????

Another question I am accosted with frequently is “Do you work?”

Well of course I do! How else would a healthy person exist?

The definition of work is-be engaged in physical or mental activity in order to achieve a result- Just by being there I am working!

I wake up in the morning and look down at the beautiful garden below. It is teeming with life! (Sometimes I wake up at five in the morning and the well-lit garden is humming with activity) You would be amazed at what all people do early in the morning. (Being a night person, my brain refuses to work for an hour or so after I wake up!) There are the young ones with plugged up ears running and jogging, the middle-aged ones (you can tell by their paunches!) walking energetically, the old ones talking a leisurely stroll and some undisciplined kids weaving in and out almost tripping people. I feel am I losing out on life, I don’t do all this…. But….

Some five- six years back I used to do all this (Not in the morning though! Usually evening) I enjoyed it too! I used to exercise vigorously, diet all the time and fill myself with diet snacks and fruits et al; have advised people to do the same. Just imagine making three kinds of meals, looking after kids and husband and “working” too! But I was never a rebel and I walked with the pack. Complaining about everything (price, maid, vegetables and you name it!)

After the first one left the nest, I slowly stopped obsessing about school and grades (the second one was lucky!) I gave more freedom to the younger one; stopped freaking out about “why 98 not 100?” I was lucky to go abroad where my dependency on maids reduced considerably; petty politics at work was a thing of the past and I changed drastically, my whole attitude towards life changed. Whether that was a good thing or not, is for you to decide.

People were already saying,” soon your second one will leave – you must get back to work”. To be honest I mulled over it for some time and half-heartedly tried. Then one fine day I decided to leave the race! I wanted to stand and stare at the runners going ahead with their jogging shoes and water bottles’ I-pod and headphones; determined and sweaty faces!

I have been blessed with an understanding husband who lets me do whatever I want to. I know he would love it if I went back into the “working” arena but he respects my wish, not to.

For the last four years, I have been fulfilling one of my life’s desires- to travel. I have travelled a lot and drunk in the pleasure of new civilizations, cultures, currencies and beauty. I have had the freedom to help my children settle down and begin their journey in and towards adulthood. Could I have done this if I had been “working”? I have gone on holidays not worrying about school holidays or leave applications. I have reduced my cribbing quotient and moved towards positivity in spite of all the negativity that surrounds me. Yes, I have fallen ill but without feeling guilty that I have to take leave and stay at home. I believe that I am living life now. I know people will accuse me of being selfish, lazy and pleasure loving. Maybe I am that! But all of us deserve a break from the mundane grind of existence and I believe that after being good for so long, let me be a little evil!

To answer the very important “question” I do work. I work to run the house, I work to give emotional support to many people in my life, I work to keep a balance of yin yang in the family, I work to see that life is running smoothly for the people who have done so for me, now. I am the finance minister, the home minister, the education minister, the foreign affairs minister… all rolled into one.

 

So my young and old friends learn that we all have our roles to play at all times during our life. It is important that we find our niche and enjoy what we do. All of us are working towards a common goal of reaching out to happiness. Even the beggar works!

I read and play, I am learning to enjoy cooking (I have always hated it till now!) I am learning to explore and discover. I am learning! That’s the important thing. The day I stop learning I will die and then you can ask me, “What do I do the whole day?” Now twenty-four hours is not enough for me!

The main thing is to fulfill your responsibilities and still enjoy the process of life!