A Year After Baba

One year has passed by since the time that Baba is not with us physically. He led a calm and quiet life and went away equally calmly and quietly...just as he had wished. Let us celebrate his life by recalling some of his sterling qualities.

Willingness to learn new things 

Cheerful disposition

Non-judgemental attitude

Acceptance of physical ailments and limitations without complaining

No expectations from anyone 

Being a trustworthy and reliable friend to many

Ability to communicate meaningfully with people across generations

Regular practice of Sudarshan Kriya and breathing exercises

Staying up to date with current events

Always open to trying out and appreciating different foods without prejudice

Enjoying music, films, plays...

He remained young at heart until his last breath and will continue to live on in our memory in the same way.

My earlier post on him: A Portrait Of My Father!

Welcome Home Sunil!

My cousin Sunil. Last month he returned home to Burhanpur on retiring from a long and successful stint in Kuwait as Specialist Asset Integrity at an oil refinery. Life has come a full circle for him. As pictures of his homecoming appeared on the family WhatsApp group, my mind went back to the time when Sunil had left home as a 16-year-old lad to get admitted to a premier engineering institute in Indore. He was staying close to our house in Indore, and would often drop by. He made several friends at the institute quickly. He would share updates about his life at the institute with us. He became a member of Maharashtra Engineers, a students' wing of Marathi-speaking people at the institute. We used to get invited to social and cultural events organised by them. Those evenings were very enjoyable, with music, dance, and theatre performed by enthusiastic students.

Time flew, and Sunil passed his engineering with flying colours. He spent about a year with private companies in Mumbai, and then got a good job at the Indian Oil Corporation (IOC). He moved to their refinery in Haldia, roughly 124 kilometres from Kolkata. He adapted to the lifestyle of that new place, and started settling into his profession. He met his life partner Jolly, an accomplished gynaecologist and obstetrician, also working at the IOC in Haldia. They settled into their family life with the arrival of their baby boy, at the same time both contributing wholeheartedly to their careers at the refinery.

Sunil has always been very energetic, adventurous, active, and hardworking. As life presented him with an opportunity to move to Kuwait, he accepted it heartily. Supported by Jolly, they made Kuwait their home. Both of them had challenging careers, and they gave their best to their work. They made many long-lasting friendships there, and took part in social, cultural, and religious activities of Maharashtrian as well as Bengali communities enthusiastically. Of course, Marathi and Bangla are Sunil and Jolly's respective mother tongues, but with exposure to different communities, and a cosmopolitan lifestyle, they are world citizens really!

Photos courtesy Sunil

An avid traveller, Sunil along with Jolly has travelled far and wide to interesting destinations across the globe. He is also a keen golfer, having spent many enjoyable hours at the sprawling greens and desert golf courses in Kuwait. He has a good knowledge of rituals, and he made proper use of his knowledge by officiating at pujas and religious events regularly. He is a people's person, always bubbling with energy. He likes to remain in touch and maintain contact with his friends, relatives and acquaintances, sometimes going out of his way to make efforts to meet someone.

He is very down to earth, and adapts to any condition quickly without any complaints. I remember, once he and Jolly visited us in Bangalore for a couple of days. We had moved to Bangalore just a few days before their visit, and had not even unpacked all our stuff. The apartment was strewn with boxes, and was far from being ready to welcome anyone. They are close family, and there is no formality with them. But still I felt bad that I could not make things more comfortable for them. But both of them made me completely at ease with their natural, easygoing and simple demeanour, not only taking things as they were, but also finding enjoyment in them!

Similarly, they played great hosts when I made trips to their homes in Haldia, Kuwait, and Kolkata. When you are with them, time passes by with chatter and laughter. I wish the same laughter fills their lives as they make India their base now. Wishing both of them many more years of adventure, fun, travel, and good times with family and friends!

A Portrait Of My Father!

It is not easy to write on people who are close to you. They could be your family or friends, but penning a sketch is equally difficult. I have been mulling over the thought of writing on my father for the past few months, but never quite got around to doing it. Finally, gathered some courage to attempt it today.

My father, Baba as we call him, defies stereotypes in many ways. In his eighties. he is as techno-savvy as can be. Ever willing to learn and adapt to new stuff, he uses modern gadgets and devices with ease. He is enthusiastic and doesn't shy away from asking help from his grandchildren whether they are with him or away. He communicates with them with ease on social media and keeps himself updated with the newest trends.

He worked in the textile industry and later in the industrial chemicals business. His work took him to Iran for four long years, away from his family and away from his young children. More than four decades ago, Iran seemed to be a distant place. Communication was not easy, modest aerogrammes being the only mode of keeping in touch. The thin blue letter would take a couple of weeks to reach us, and it used to be the most awaited item from the postman's bag.

Brought up in a traditional vegetarian household by his parents, he made the necessary changes in his diet while living in a remote textile town in Iran, eating the bland, unfamiliar food day in and day out without complaining. Even now he is quite adventurous in trying out new foods, unlike some of us who have reservations about experimenting with different cuisines. The town offered hardly any recreation, and spending weekends used to be a torture. He occupied himself with reading, swimming and listening to music.

Talking of music, he is a trained violinist in the Hindustani style. He used to perform regularly on the All India Radio before going to Iran.The fact that he pursued this interest without having any musical background in the family makes it more creditable. He was a part of the regular music circle in the city and I remember informal recitals taking place in our living room, with music lovers enjoying the offerings by fellow musicians followed by cups of coffee brought out by my mother from the kitchen.

Baba took driving lessons at a very young age and drove his father's Austin regularly with ease. Much later, he got his own Ambassador and then a Fiat. He does not drive anymore, but was an expert driver who understood the working of a car almost as well as a mechanic does. He loved his cars, took good care of them and was always ready to take friends and family where they wished to go in his car. When we used to arrive from Delhi to Indore by train, he would be waiting at the platform in the hot summer afternoon, his car parked outside, eager to take us home.

These days, taking pictures has become very easy. Anybody who has a reasonably good mobile phone takes pictures. Baba was a proud owner of a Minolta and took great pictures. I remember seeing wonderful slides from my parents' Europe trip projected on our living room wall using a slide projector. An early black and white masterpiece from him featured me as a little girl enacting the three monkeys of Gandhiji in a single frame!

Another of Baba's remarkable interests is his expertise in fixing things. Be it an electrical or a mechanical appliance, if it is not working well, he would open it up and tinker with it until it got back into shape. Acquaintances, friends and relatives would often leave their damaged radios, tape recorders, mixers or toasters with him and he would bring them back to life again. Now when everything is disposable, this skill is on its way to becoming obsolete, but still comes in handy while using several household items like a water purifier, a telephone instrument or a water pump.

Baba is blessed with a large circle of close friends. They have known one another for decades and share a great bond. In spite of some age-related issues, he maintains a cheerful disposition, keeping himself occupied with a regular exercise routine in the morning, followed by breakfast, bath and offering pooja to family deities at home. He enjoys going to a play or a concert in the city, though of late his movement is a bit restricted. Well-wishers and friends routinely drop by at home and he loves catching up with them.

He can keep up with present day life and can easily relate to people much younger than him in age. This is possible because he has not allowed himself to "feel" old. It is easier said than done. A big round of applause to him for that!

A Portrait Of My Mother!

A small rectangle of black granite is her canvas. Heaps of white and coloured rangoli powder are her paints. And her nimble fingers are her brushes. Every morning she is seated in the prayer room drawing a beautiful design to welcome the day. Sometimes they are floral patterns, at other times geometric forms, and on birthdays and festivals, it is brief messages in text. The granite slab is her personal space where she expresses herself using the humble rangoli powder. New Years have been ushered in, Independence Days and Republic Days have been marked,  cricket teams have been wished good luck --she is a cricket enthusiast---, and guests/family members have been greeted on special occasions with her lines and letters drawn here. Once when I returned home from the hospital after a major surgery, her rangoli was waiting at the doorstep to welcome and soothe me.

A birthday feast for her daughter-in-law

On some days, the rangoli makes an appearance on the sunmica-topped dining table, often drawn around the plate of someone celebrating a birthday in the family. What is around the plate is of course beautiful. Moreover, what is on the plate is not only beautiful, but also tempting and delicious. She loves to plan menus and cook, serving the items neatly and aesthetically on the plate and in the accompanying bowls.

Her neatness is not restricted to the dining table, it reflects everywhere around the house. The beds are made nicely, the dining table and kitchen surfaces are free of clutter and are gleaming, the living room is always in order, and the entrance to the house bright and open making visitors feel welcome instantly. The shelves in the kitchen are always lined smartly and all cupboards in the kitchen and bedrooms are arranged meticulously.  What is remarkable is that she executes her neatness without compelling or bothering others in the family. Neatness freaks often terrorise other members in the family with their sometimes unreasonable demands. Not her. She just says keeping the house neat is a continuous process, that's all. Needless to say, she is always tidily turned out in a saree.

The continuous flow of house-guests to the house over the decades says a lot about her warm hospitality and her ability to adapt to the guests' needs. She makes them completely at ease, often changing her schedule to suit their requirements.

A colourful kite to mark the festival of Sankranti

She is the central figure in the family when it comes to celebrating festivals. Be it putting up decorations, getting things ready for certain rituals, planning specific foods for certain festivals and putting things back after the celebrations...she does it all year after year. Another of her interests is gift-packing. Almost all the gifts are personally wrapped by her. She loves knitting and makes sweater-cap-socks sets for newborns to this day. Knitting a sweater for an adult is a bit too strenuous for her now, but she has done that a lot earlier.

A plant-lover, she keeps a charming garden of potted plants in the veranda. It is her hobby to arrange twigs, leaves and flowers in big and small vases spread around the house. The arrangements are often minimalist and do not involve buying flowers from the market.

All these are very pleasant and likeable traits indeed, but what set her apart are other qualities: a loving heart that touches almost everybody who interacts with her, her cheerful demeanour that brings joy to everyone around her, her positive energy and enthusiasm, her ability to share others' happiness and to enjoy small pleasures of life. It is this joie de vivre that keeps her young at heart and in spirit. Of course, age does not spare anybody and she is no exception either. Aches and pains in the knees and back are routine affairs that she manages to keep at bay with regular exercise and a walk in the neighbourhood park. A light eater, she eats simple homemade food in small quantities;  her delicate system not allowing her to eat heavy and spicy food.

She is my mother--Aai, as we call her.

Why am I saying all this? Is it her birthday today? No, saying it because generally we do not express our feelings towards our close family members. We make efforts to send greetings and wishes to friends and relatives living faraway, but keep mum when it comes to recognising qualities of people at home. This is just a small effort towards correcting that. A nod of approval, a word of appreciation, a touch of love and care, and a pat of encouragement do go a long way in making your loved ones happy. So why not do that once in a while?

Aai, may you continue to walk your path happily, healthily and heartily.

My Guardian Angels

It was 1978 and I was a starry-eyed young woman, barely out of my teens. The standard courses offered for post-graduation in Indore did not interest me. I was fascinated by the world of the print media, and wanted to pursue it. The closest city from Indore where you could take a course in Journalism was Mumbai, called Bombay in those days. I had my eyes set on it, and even though it must have been a difficult decision for them, Aai-Baba--my parents--agreed to send me. As luck would have it, I secured a seat at the renowned Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan for a 1-year diploma course in Journalism. I was happy and thrilled. But there was a problem. We had to make arrangements for my stay. Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan did not have any hostel facility.

Photo by Mayuresh

This is where my father's close friend Achyutkaka and his wife, Ashatai came to our rescue. They opened their doors for me and invited me to stay with them in their flat, on Senapati Bapat Road in Mahim. Now, this was a small, one-bedroom flat and they had three young children. I became their fourth child, and the eldest one at that. Aai-Baba found it hard to send me away, but at the same time they were relieved because I was going to be under the loving and watchful eye of their most trustworthy friends.

Achyutkaka was (still is) a stickler for discipline, order and neatness. I made sure that I hang my clothes to dry in perfect symmetry on the clothesline. When I took off my slippers, I set them straight against the wall, with the toe-side touching the wall. Achyutkaka was particular about everything and paid attention to the smallest detail around his house. Footwear left on the floor in a haphazard manner, beds covered with sheets that were wrinkled and slack instead of being taut, and anything in general that was not placed neatly, bothered him. He was very straightforward and vocal about it. His children often got quite an earful from him. I may not have lived up to his exacting standards in spite of trying very hard, but I must say that he never let me know that in any way. He would regularly advise me on how to go about in my chosen field of study. He used to tell me how I should conduct myself in a big city like Bombay. 'If you have any problem, confide in Asha', he often told me. After all, they were responsible for a 19-year-old, who had come away from her parents for the first time.

Even though he was an executive with the Indian Oil Corporation, acting was Achyutkaka's passion. He was active in the theatre circuit and I remember going to see many plays with him at the Chhabildas High School in Dadar. Chhabildas was a great venue for playwrights and directors to showcase their creations. It provided a platform for quality theatre that was not purely commercial, but experimental and low-budget. I don't mean to name-drop, but I got to see Pandit Satyadev Dubey,  Rohini and Jayadev Hattangadi, Sulabha and Arvind Deshpande, Nafisa Ali, Nana Patekar, Amol Palekar, Sunila Pradhan and many others from close quarters, either on stage or as part of the audience or in an informal meeting, thanks to Achyutkaka. I can't recollect names of all the plays that I saw there, but the two that stand out in memory are Badal Sircar's 'Juloos' and Mohan Rakesh's 'Aadhe Adhoore'. And I certainly haven't forgotten the zesty batatavadas from a nearby stall, that we used to be treated to, after watching a play.

Photo by Govind

If I have to mention one more of Achyutkaka's 'likes', other than discipline, order, neatness and acting, it has to be his evening drink. He has been having his pre-dinner drink every single day for years. I can still picture him, sitting in a chair that was kept between a window and a steel cupboard in the small Mahim flat, nursing his drink. His tastes in food are simple. He is happy with his daal-roti, the daal has to be served in a big bowl though, not in the small vaati or katori in which it is traditionally served in Maharashtrian houses. And the pinch of sugar that Maharashtrians add to all the dishes is a strict no-no in his house. Ashatai's cooking has always been free of that dash of sugar. In fact, there is a delightful North Indian touch to her fare, as she hails from Jhansi. The family was mostly vegetarian. Occasionally, there used to be some fish and the children tried their best to cajole me into eating it, or at least trying a little portion. But I was, still am, a vegetarian by choice and therefore did not succumb to their pleas.

Life was simple. School for the kids, Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan for me and office for Achyutkaka. Ashatai was a homemaker then. She started teaching at a school later. Sunday evenings were reserved for sitting in front of the TV and watching whatever movie Doordarshan threw at us. There used to be an intermission--a break when news was telecast--that all of us enjoyed with some munchies. The favourite items were puff biscuits and hard and crispy boondi laddoos which Achyutkaka used to get from some shop in Dadar.

Time flew in these congenial environs and before I knew it, my course was over. I was fortunate to be selected as a trainee journalist at the Bennett, Coleman & Company, publishers of the Times of India and many reputed journals. Soon, I moved into a hostel for working women. It was not too far from Achyutkaka's place. I continued visiting and meeting him and his family till I got married and moved away in 1982. When we were about to set up our home in Delhi, Achyutkaka gave us an Indane gas connection from his discretionary quota. That was one of the most sought after things then, a precious gift indeed that is still keeping our kitchen fires burning.

Achyutkaka and Ashatai visited us in Delhi and in Bangalore. They came when Aai-Baba were with us so that the four of them could spend some nice time together. Achyutkaka and Baba have been friends for more than six decades now, but what is remarkable is that their wives are each other's best friends too! During his visits, I found that he is still his old self...inspecting cupboards, arranging newspapers in a neat pile, washing and arranging teacups in the kitchen...and so on. His actions told me that he felt completely 'at home' at our place. This is exactly what he would have done in his own house.

Well, that is Achyutkaka for me.

A bit of information for those who don't know: Achyutkaka is Achyut Potdar who played the role of the father of leading ladies Urmila Matondkar ( in the 1995 Hindi film 'Rangeela')  and Vidya Balan ( in the 2005 film 'Parineeta'), and a cameo of a professor in 'Three Idiots' (2009). You may have seen him in many other Hindi films,  TV serials and advertisements. Kudos to him for keeping his passion alive and being actively involved in it so many years after retirement.