importance of being me: Of smell, perfumes and aromas….

importance of being me: Of smell, perfumes and aromas….: Have you ever had cream cracker biscuits with hot tea? Specially after a bout of flu. The ones I was having, smelt of or...

Of smell, perfumes and aromas….

Have you ever had cream cracker biscuits with hot tea? Specially after a bout of flu. The ones I was having, smelt of oranges! How you may ask. Well, the canister which was used to store the cream crackers, sometime before this momentous event, had housed orange cream biscuits (my weakness, I must confess). With every bite of the crispy crackly dry biscuit I smelt the whiff of orange and this made the whole experience so much more enhanced! I am sure each of us have some experience similar to this in other fields which makes life so much better than what it seems to be. (too long a sentence, my English teacher would say!)

I have heard that the very poor people, especially in West Bengal do a special thing when they are having their frugal meal. They sit around the earthen stove where the wood tinder is still smouldering and eat their meal of rice and very watery dal. What is special about that? Most impoverished people do that. Well….. they throw in a bunch of fish scales into the embers, with the fishy whiff that emanates from there, they are able to trick their taste buds into thinking that they are having fish. This makes the whole process of eating an insipid meal, seem delicious.

Most of us non-handicapped people take our five senses for granted. The pleasure of existence is all due to them. It is only when we lose any one or more of them that we value them. There are pages of stories, reels of movies and endless T.V. Serials which deal with the matters of the heart. Of course they talk about the metaphysical heart, not the muscular pump that beats day in and day out to make us aware of existence. Ultimately everything boils down to our feelings and that means our senses and that leads to that dirty mass of grey matter housed in our head! Not on the left side of our chest cavity! 

The other day as I was walking on the streets I got the aroma of jalebis (those squiggly mass of sweetened- fried delicacies) I was reminded of my school days in Mathura. Every week mom would go shopping to the small town’s market place. This was around the temple where Krishna was supposed to have been born. The endless narrow alleys where only cows and walkers could move about. The area was a tantalising heaven of the smell of sweets, fried savouries and the sweet-sour smell of delicious chats (typical of north Indian snacks). Whenever I accompanied the parents I was treated to jalebis and Pani- puris. Just imagine a few molecules carrying the scent, could trigger off the memories of years ago. Again a source of pure pleasure!

Like all things, these minute triggers can affect us negatively.  The smell of fire can traumatize you or remind you of a lovely barbecue depending on what kind of experience has made an underlining impact on your mind. Petrichor, the first cold wind of winter or the humid breeze of the pre-monsoon period all trigger of memories of our various experience through our lives. What makes this so rich and exciting that every man has his own tale to tell. Rarely do you find a similar story, but when you do, then comes a strong bonding that makes such a relationship precious.

Every republic day during school was associated with waking up early for the march past and flag hoisting. College, was a mandatory exercise, which was done because we would get the rest of the day off. As adults, it was a holiday to look forward to, though for many years we did wake up early, attended the flag hoisting and had some celebration of sorts. What was common through the years was the small packet of samosa and a sweet (barfi, ladoo….) that I looked forward to. Here, as I peer into the many buildings of the concrete city from the twenty sixth floor, I notice the shamianas, the flags, and the loud speakers. The street boys selling the tricolour flags and the relative peace on the road as it’s a holiday. The flag hoisting is done at a “convenient “time of nine or ten o’clock, some children and men sing a few patriotic songs and all is done.

I do not feel the surge of patriotism. My heart does not turn over in the guts, as it had, when I listened to Lata Mangeshkar’s “”ye mere vatan ke logo..” The saddest part is I cannot smell the samosas to activate my senses to wallow in the pleasure of my past. But I do remember the days of the revolution in Egypt and I am glad that I am safe here in my own country as the terror attacks continue unabated the world over.

So ‘Brain’ the master of all continues to hold all the strings of our lives and the endocrine glands continue to monitor the Master with various doses of chemicals that they produce!

Herald of Spring

Winter is officially over! (What winter?!) Instead of saying “as the days get warmer” I shall say “As the days get hotter”  and we look in bleak trepidation at the

“April is the cruellest month, breeding 

Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

Memory and desire, stirring

Dull roots with spring rain.”

Remembering Eliot, I digress into the unwelcome future of a hot and humid summer! Now with winter disappearing and spring merging into summer where will we go to escape the heat?

There is a flurry of activity around the area we live in. You can actually feel the hum and energy in the air. The traffic noise is more aggressive and cacophonic than usual. The dichotomy lies in the fact that life is more evident in the intangible and transient atmosphere but the lush green cover on the hill outside the kitchen window is turning brown and barren!

Amidst all these desolate thoughts, I spy a single colorful kite swishing its tail against the gentle summer breeze. There is hope after all!

Society over the years has changed and mutated. Many of us are limited to our virtual societies. Everyone is busy working the whole week and the weekends are meant to unwind. Gone are the days when we would invite friends over for a meal or have an impromptu party. Now every get together is a chore for the house owner where it will be held. After all the menu has to planned- starters, drinks, main course (with veg- non veg!) desert and after dinner liqueur! Expensive and tiring! Festivals meant for social bonding have become a routine, of some group arranging everything, where we go and smile at unknown faces, listen to the latest Bollywood hip shakers, eat a lot of unhealthy food and walk off with a smile at the guard!

I am not here to argue about whether unknown, unproductive and outdated rituals have any meaning in today’s world, I am here to state that the supposedly known, productive and “cool” rituals are absolutely uncool. Any exercise that has no productive output is to touch the nadir of existence. I believe if I sit and stare at a beautiful painting, it is productive as it gives me the pleasure of beholding beauty in all its splendour and kicking my mental consciousness into the first gear of movement- for movement is change and change is existence. So by exercise I don’t mean any physical process of energy and output.

There was an office party on a terrace over which my window looks, for Makar Sankranti, I assume, as I saw many young people trying to fly kites. I remember the tradition of flying kites as a child. The trouble we went to stick the crushed glass on to the thread (to be able to cut off other people’s kites!) Weeks before we would scour the market for the best looking and aerodynamically viable ones. There would be spare ones hidden somewhere if we were at the mercy of a rogue kite flyer. The frustration of not being able to run and throw the kite high enough to launch it. Begging dad to help us out because he was so tall! I hardly see that now days. Is it because we are in a city of concrete jungle? Is it still there in small towns and villages?

I don’t miss those days. I had my day in the sunshine and wind. I only wish the new generation would be able to partake this delicacy as a starter for the party of life.

There are a few kites lazily floating in the sky. Very few and very lazy! I try and find the fliers and cannot see them clearly. I think time has kept its date with me. The kite is like me, lazy and drifting but still tied, to keep me in check. One day some rogue glass-sharpened string will cut into me and allow me to reach for the sun.

Makar Sankranti- a new beginning! 

importance of being me: The three-D experience

importance of being me: The three-D experience: I haven’t been writing too much these days. Blame it on my family bonding time, can’t blame it on travel this time around-...

The three-D experience

I haven’t been writing too much these days. Blame it on my family bonding time, can’t blame it on travel this time around- just made this one trip to Scotland and a couple of road trips close home.

It’s been a mish-mash year, very unplanned and disorganized but fun nevertheless. (Remember I am talking about 2015)

 My experiences have been in layers and sections. On one hand I have had the fun of setting up yet another home on the other I have had to curse the Mumbai traffic! Thank God for the peace and tranquility of Powai and curse the devil for creating all the pollution and traffic snarls on the Western expressway! Having my family back again in my not so empty nest, beside the fact that I have to plan three meals a day (it seems so long ago that I was doing this on a regular basis and not realizing it!)

 A happening year but a disorganized one is how I would describe it. On the upside I have an unpaid driver as the Lil’ doc of the family takes me anywhere and everywhere I want to! The first few outings were terrifying. Pressing the phantom clutch and brake from the passenger seat is not a comfortable experience! Soon I got used it. Instead of cursing the ever present autos who weave in and out, I started reading the very witty driving advice on the billboards! Believe it or not I laughed at them too. I looked at the traffic signal vendors without annoyance and wished I had a small child to buy the toys they were hawking. I even made eye contact with the pretty eunuchs and smiled at them as they tapped on my closed windows.

 On the downside the Lil’ Doc does not let me munch on chips while I go on a serial watching binge! Nags me about exercising! Stops me from “Malling” (that means walk around aimlessly in the mall!) but then happiness comes at a cost.

Then comes the “nnoying Teenager” who is forever hungry! (the term ‘nnoying” comes from the fact that she calls everyone and everything that!) She never wakes up at breakfast time (the jet lag excuse has gotten over a long time ago!) Can sit on the computer multi -tasking with her phone but never sees the unmade bed or the pile of clothes dumped in the room!

 But the energy of her hugs and her demands for affection erases most of the annoyingness!

 Hubby dearest has been basking in the all-female attention! He did not have to deal with a cranky lonely wife as she was busy, really busy. He had the excuse to be a workaholic (make money for us to spend!)

After a topsy turvy time the year ended with our last road trip. The new year was different too, we went for a Powai walk till midnight (Beautifully lit up this year!) and had dinner out instead of the normal drinking party! The high light was we were together after a long time.

 The new year has crept in stealthily. Before we knew it was here and we are well into the first month! The house is quieter as the brat has gone back to college.

Having passed her driving test, I thought I would make a car for her birthday cake and I did! The downside is Lil’Doc is nnoyed as it is a three D shaped cake which she says I never make for her (not true! Not true! Say the early Koels outside the window!)

So a year full of three dimensional experience is how I would describe 2015. Let’s see what the new year brings in…

But I do hope it brings happiness and love for everyone and travel and writing for me.

A VERY HAPPY NEW YEAR!