आठवणीतली मोठीआई !

बाबांच्या आईला आम्ही मोठीआई म्हणत असू. गव्हाळ वर्णाची ठेंगणी-ठुसकी मोठीआई नऊवारी लुगडे नेसत असे. कानात मोत्याच्या कुड्या, गळ्यात सोन्याची साखळी, हातात सोन्याच्या पाटलीवजा बांगड्या, अशी तिची राहणी त्या काळानुसारच होती. लक्षात राहण्यासारखे काही वेगळे होते तर तिचे लांबसडक केस. ती आपल्या केसांची खूप काळजी घेत असे. तेल लावून रोज मोठ्ठा जाडजूड आणि गोल आंबाडा घालत असे. तिच्या केसांना चुकून आमचा हात लागला तर ते तिला खपत नसे.

आमची आजी म्हणून तिची ओळख श्रीमती लक्ष्मीबाई जोशी अशी असली तरी तिचे माहेरचे नांव तारा करजगीर होते. तिचा जन्म अंदाजे १९०५-१९१०च्या दरम्यान झाला असावा. राजस्थान मधील निंबाहेडा हे तिचे माहेर होते. पण ती आणि तिच्या माहेरचे लोक त्याला "लिंभाडा " म्हणत असत. तिच्याबरोबर लहानपणी "लिंभाड्याला" गेल्याचे मला आठवते. पण ती आठवण पुसटच आहे. तीन बहिणी आणि दोन भाऊ अश्या भावंडांपैकी मोठीआई मधली बहीण होती. तिची मोठी बहीण इंदूरलाच असे, आणि धाकटी इंदूरच्या जवळ धारला. तिच्या भावाच्या मुलांपैकी खूपजण इंदूरला होते, आणि ते सगळे त्यांच्या "जिजीआत्या" ला भेटायला वरचेवर आमच्या घरी येत असत.

मी आणि माझी बहीण लहानपणीपासून नेहमीच मोठीआई जवळ झोपायचो. झोपता-झोपता तिच्याकडून ऐकलेल्या रामायण-महाभारतातील गोष्टी अजूनही आठवणीत आहे. ती शाळेत गेली नाही, पण तिला लिहिता-वाचता येत होते. ती पत्रव्यवहार करायची, वर्तमानपत्र वाचायची, हिशेब लिहायची, पोथ्या वाचायची, वहीत भजने आणि पदे लिहायची. दासबोध, हरिविजय तिच्या संग्रही होते. हरिविजय तर बाइंडिंग नसलेली पोथी होती. तिची सुटी पानें कापडी आवरणात व्यवस्थित ठेवलेली असायची.  

आमच्या मालकीचे एक घर इंदूरच्या जवळ बडवाहला होते. तिथे काही कुटुंब भाड्याने रहात असत. आम्ही इंदूरला होतो. भाडेकऱ्यांसाठी सगळी दृष्टीआड सृष्टीच होती. खूप लोक भाडे बुडवून निघून जायचे आणि आम्हाला पत्ताही लागायचा नाही. कधीमधी भाड्याची मनी ऑर्डर यायची. पोस्टकार्डवर कुणाकुणाची पत्रें देखील यायची. तो सगळा व्यवहार मोठीआईच बघायची. मी तिच्या बरोबर एक-दोनवेळा बडवाहला गेल्याचे आठवते. नागेश्वरपट्टीतल्या त्या घराचीही अंधुकशी आठवण आहे.

 माझ्या लहानपणीच माझ्या आजोबांचे निधन झाले त्यामुळे मोठीआई आणि आजोबांना बरोबर पाहिलेले मला आठवत नाही. मोठीआई आजोबांची दुसरी पत्नी होती. आजोबा महाराणी इंदिराबाई होळकरांकडे खाजगीत मोठ्या हुद्द्यावर होते. ते महाराणी साहेबांबरोबर युरोपला जाऊन आले होते. आजोबा चांगलेच उंच होते. दोघांच्या उंचीत आणि वयात बऱ्यापैकी अंतर होते.

मोठीआई श्रीमती भागीरथीबाई वैद्य नांवाच्या आध्यात्मिक गुरूंची शिष्या होती. त्यांचे सर्व शिष्य त्यांना गुरुमहाराज आणि त्यांच्या जागेला बंगला म्हणायचे. बंगल्यावर दर रविवारी कीर्तन असायचे. कीर्तनाला तिथे कथा म्हणत असत. सर्व शिष्य आळीपाळीने कथा करत. मोठीआई देखील कथा करायची. गुरूपौर्णिमेला मोठा उत्सव असायचा. बंगल्यावरचा कुठलाही कार्यक्रम मोठीआई कधी चुकवत नसे. तिचे गुरुबंधू आणि गुरुभगिनी तिला जोशीवहिनी म्हणून संबोधत. लहानपणी आम्हीपण बरेच वेळा मोठीआई सोबत बंगल्यावर कथेला जायचो. शिवाय गुरुपौर्णिमेला तिथे शेकडो शिष्य आपापल्या कुटुंबासकट जेवायला जायचे. श्लोकांच्या गजरात पत्रावळींवरच्या जेवणाच्या पंगती उठत.

आमच्या घरी गुरु महाराजांची मोठी तसबीर भिंतीवर लागलेली होती. शाळेत जातांना त्या तसबिरीला नमस्कार करून जायचे असे मोठीआईने सांगितले होते आणि ते आमच्या अंगवळणी पडले होते. आमच्याकडच्या चमेलीच्या वेलीला त्यावेळी खूप फुले येत असत. मोठीआई अर्धोन्मिलित कळ्यांचा हार करून त्या तसबिरीला घालत असे. त्या उमलल्या की त्यांचा घमघमाट घरात पसरे. मोठीआई सकाळी उठून देवघरात बसून काही पदे गुणगुणायची. त्यातील "वाकुनी टाक सडा राधिके वाकुनी टाक सडा", "चित्ती तुमचे पाय डोळा रूपाचे ध्यान" आणि "लिजो रे कन्हैया बिडी पानन की लिजो लिजो रे" अजूनही माझ्या आठवणीत आहेत.

मोठीआई बरेच सोवळेओवळे पाळायची. सगळे कुळधर्म कुळाचार व्यवस्थितरित्या पाळले गेले पाहिजेत ह्याकडे तिचा कटाक्ष असायचा. मोठीआई आणि आई दोघी मिळून दरवर्षी सगळे सणवार आणि कुळाचार साग्रसंगीतरित्या करायच्या. बरेच उपाससुद्धा असायचे. आम्ही लहान होतो त्यामुळे आम्ही रोजच्यासारखे जेवायचो पण मोठीआई तिच्या फराळातल्या थालीपिठाचा तुकडा किंवा साबुदाणा खिचडीचा घास न चुकता आम्हाला द्यायची आणि ते फार चविष्ट असायचे. कधी-कधी जेवतांना पोळ्या कमी पडायच्या. मग मोठीआई भरपूर तूप घालून जाड्या कणिकेचा पानगा करायची. तो इतका छान लागायचा की चार घास जास्तच खाल्ले जायचे. तिच्या हातच्या घडीच्या पोळ्या किंवा बाट्या अप्रतिम असायच्या.

गाडीवर विकायला येणाऱ्या फळांपैकी मोठीआई जवळ-जवळ रोज काहीतरी विकत घ्यायची. आणि त्याचे तीन भाग करून आम्हा तिघांसाठी काढून ठेवायची. घरी यायला कुणाला उशीर झाला तर स्वयंपाकघराच्या दारात उंबऱ्यावर पाणी पिण्याचे भांडे पालथे घालायची. कुठल्याही वस्तूला विशेषतः पुस्तकाला किंवा कागदाला चुकून पाय लागला तर नमस्कार करायला सांगायची. त्याची इतकी सवय झाली की तो आता आपोआपच केला जातो. पितृपक्षात नवे कपडे विकत घ्यायचे नाहीत, चातुर्मासात कांदे खायचे नाहीत असे तिचे नियम होते. दरवर्षी पितृपक्ष संपल्याबरोबर आम्ही दिवाळीसाठी नव्या कपड्यांची खरेदी करायचो.

मोठीआई आपल्या जुन्या झालेल्या लुगड्यांना मशीनवर शिवून त्यांच्या चौघड्या तयार करायची. त्या खूप ऊबदार आणि मऊ असायच्या. मी कितीतरी वर्षें त्या चौघड्याच पांघरून झोपत असे. कुठल्याही चादरीला चौघडीची सर येत नाही. १२ सप्टेंबर १९९५ला वृद्धापकाळाने मोठीआईला देवाज्ञा झाली. तिच्या चौघड्यांप्रमाणे तिच्या आठवणींची ऊब इतक्या वर्षांनंतर अजूनही मनात आहे. 

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.

यादों के आँगन में

पुराने मकानों को धराशायी कर वहाँ नई इमारतें खड़ी करना आजकल आम बात है. इसीसे जुड़ा एक सुन्दर लघुलेख मैंने पिछले दिनों अंग्रेज़ी में पढ़ा. बहुत ही तरल और हृदयस्पर्शी! न्यू इण्डियन एक्सप्रेस में २८ सितम्बर, २०११ को प्रकाशित रवि शंकर की यह रचना चंद शब्दों में अपनी बात कहती है. यह देखने के लिए कि क्या हिन्दी में भी वह बात बन पाती है, मैंने उसका तर्जुमा हिन्दी में किया है. मूल लेख की लिंक भी साथ है. पढ़ें और बताएँ!

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अतीत की यादें किसी पुराने रिकॉर्ड की तरह होती हैं, जिसे छोटे बच्चों के कपड़ों या पुराने प्रेमपत्रों की तरह घर के कबाड़ख़ाने में सहेज कर रखा जाता है. उस रिकॉर्ड को बजाओ तो पता चलता है कि उसमें कई खरोंचें आ चुकी हैं और आवाज़ बार-बार टूट रही है; वह आवाज़ दिल को कचोटती है. लेकिन मन में गीत की वह धुन अब भी अच्छी तरह से बजती है...एक लम्बा अरसा गुज़र जाने के बावजूद!

अपने बचपन के घर में लौटकर उसे कुछ अजीब-सा लगा, जैसे वह एक परिचित अजनबी हो. वह घर जल्द ही बिकनेवाला था. पीली पड़ चुकी दीवारों पर आँगन के पेड़ की छाया ऐसे दिख रही थी जैसे किसी दैत्य के हाथ हों, बचपन की रातों में हिलते हुए वह हाथ बहुत डरावने लगते थे. फिर वह उन इबारतों को खोजने लगा जो बचपन में उन्होंने गुप्त जगहों पर चोरी-छिपे लिखी थीं. शायद बाद में पुताई करनेवालों की नज़रों से वे बच गई हों, क्योंकि उन जगहों तक वही पहुँच सकते थे जिन्हें उनके बारे में जानकारी हो. वह एक छोटी लड़की की धुँधली हो चुकी तस्वीर उठाने के लिए नीचे झुका. शायद साथ ही पड़ी अस्त-व्यस्त पन्नों वाली अभ्यास-पुस्तिका में से यह तस्वीर नीचे गिर पड़ी थी. एक मुस्कुराते हुए चेहरे के दोनों तरफ लाल फीते के फूलों से सजी दो चोटियाँ, काजल से गहराई आँखें जो धूप की वजह से बंद हो रही थीं; एक पल के लिए हवा का झोंका कहीं से चमेली के फूलों की खुशबू लेकर आया और यादों के खज़ाने में से हँसी की आवाज़ गूँज उठी.

वह खाली कमरों में चहलकदमी करने लगा. जहाँ कभी चित्र टँगे होते थे, वहाँ अब ख़ाली चौकोर थे. छत में बड़े-बड़े छेद थे जिनमें से दिखनेवाले आकाश को छत की बल्लियाँ चिढ़ा रही थीं. चटके हुए फर्श पर फैले कूड़े के बीच पड़े चिड़ी के इक्के पर उसकी नज़र पड़ी. वह ऐसे मुस्कुराया जैसे किसीने कई बार सुना हुआ लतीफ़ा दोहराया हो. लतीफ़ा तो अब मजेदार नहीं रहा, महज उसे सुनाए जाने की याद से चेहरे पर मुस्कुराहट छा गई. इसी घर के बरामदे में दोस्तों के साथ ताश खेलते हुए सुना लतीफ़ा. अब तो उन दोस्तों की कोई ख़बर ही नहीं है.

अनवर हुसैन की शृंखला "नॉस्टेलजिया" से साभार  

लकड़ी के जिन खम्भों पर ढलाऊँ छत टिकी हुई है, वह जल्द ही उखड़ जाएँगे. उसने गहरे रंग की उस लकड़ी को छुआ. उसकी उँगलियों ने वहाँ उसके पूर्वजों के स्पर्श को महसूस किया. मगन होकर नाचनेवाले फ़कीर की तरह अपनी बाँहें आकाश में फैलाकर सूरज ढल रहा था. उसने मलाबार का वह सूर्यास्त देखा, जहाँ कई-कई रंग बिखर रहे थे, ठीक उसके गीत के सुरों की तरह. उसे लगा उसने घर के अन्दर से अपनी माँ की पुकार सुनी. माँ के हाथों की बनी कॉफ़ी की विशिष्ट तेज़ सुगंध भी उस तक पहुँची. उसने एक झटके के साथ मुड़ कर पीछे देखा, लेकिन घर में कोई नहीं था.

बगीचे में पौधे बेतरतीब-से बढ़े हुए थे. आँगन में कई दिनों से झाड़ू नहीं लगी थी और यहाँ-वहाँ कूड़ा फैला हुआ था. लेकिन वहीं पर तुलसी वृन्दावन ऐसे खड़ा था जैसे इस बीच इतने वर्षों का अंतराल गुज़रा ही न हो. सफ़ेदी किया हुआ ईंटों का चौकोर चबूतरा, जिसमें दीया रखने के लिए छोटे-छोटे आले बने हुए थे ताकि दीये को हवा न लगे. पौधा हरा-भरा था. उसके पत्तों की भीनी खुशबू उस शाम को महका रही थी. उसने तुलसी के एक पत्ते को अपनी उँगलियों के बीच दबाया. उसके सुगन्धित स्पर्श से उसे सुकून मिला. जब उसने देखा कि पौधे के नीचे की मिट्टी नम है, तो उसे बहुत अचरज हुआ. पिछले कई दिनों से बारिश नहीं हुई थी. उसने नीचे झुककर आले की ओर देखा तो वहाँ रखा मिट्टी का एक दीया उसे दिखा. उस दीये में तेल के धब्बे थे. किसीने यह दीया पिछले दिनों जलाया था.

वह मुस्कुराया. उसकी जेब में रखा फ़ोन बज उठा. घर के खरीदारों की तरफ़ से उनके एजेंट का फ़ोन था. शायद पता करना चाहता था कि वह कितनी जल्दी घर के कागज़ात पर दस्तख़त कर सकते हैं. उसने फ़ोन नहीं उठाया.

मूल अंग्रेज़ी रचना: रवि शंकर , न्यू  इण्डियन एक्सप्रेस, २८ सितम्बर २०११

Moving Into A New Place

One would have thought of home as a place where you sleep, cook, eat, relax, entertain guests, keep all your belongings and so on. But wait, it is a lot more. When we live in a comfortable house, we take many things for granted, only to realize the worth of each and every thing when we have to move out of it.

Currently we are looking for a place to rent and have encountered several humorous situations during our hunt. My mental check-list starts ticking the moment we reach the proposed apartment building. Some streets bearing grandiose names such as Judges Avenue turn out to be narrow, dusty lanes where you wonder how your mover's truck will make it should you decide to take up the apartment on offer. Then the parking lot being promised for your car may turn out to be a small open space with hardly any room for manoeuvre, where parking a four-wheeler could be an expert driver's nightmare.

Large complexes and townships often have their own back-up systems for power, but smaller buildings having just a handful of apartments are generally without this luxury. It is in buildings like this that you have to be careful about how high your proposed accommodation is. A third or fourth floor (and anything above it) may become hard to negotiate if there are frequent power cuts when the lift is reduced to a small, dark cubicle incapable of taking you anywhere.

Once the approach road to the apartment, parking space for your car and lift is done with, the person "showing" you the place comes into action. A proud father ushering us into his expatriate daughter's apartment waxed eloquent about the unique doorbell that his darling daughter had installed at her place, and how it could be operated even if there was no power, and how it made different sounds every time it was pressed, and how special it was to her. I was tempted to ask the doting father if this bell even detected the visitors and unlatched the door for them, but didn't get a chance to do so since he had moved ahead in the living room towards the door leading to the balcony.

The mother of an apartment owner recently underlined the grievous absence of a well-defined place to keep your footwear at the doorstep before entering any home and went on to show us a small "teakwood" cabinet which she had thoughtfully placed at the entrance for this purpose. Her friends were aghast that she was giving away such a beautiful piece of furniture for her daughter's tenants, but she was determined in this matter, she said.

Most landlords like to regale their prospective tenants with detailed accounts of how they got some modifications done in their property to make it more suitable to their needs. But in their enthusiasm to show these wonderful amenities to others, they often forget that their needs need not always match with what a tenant is looking for. One such gentleman had disabled a bathroom in his brand-new flat in order to allow the maid to clean utensils there. And this utensil-cleaning-room-which-would-have-been-a-bathroom was opening right into the living room! Another building had a lift which was designed to stop between floors. So, after you get out of the lift, you have about eight steps to climb up or down. A compulsory exercise for compulsive lift-users!

We have had enthusiastic family members of apartment-owners insist that we take a look under the washbasin in a bathroom and see how cleverly they have made provisions for hiding the mop and the bucket there. A certain gentleman was ecstatic about the master bathroom being equipped with two washbasins, his and hers! They go about opening cupboards under the kitchen platforms displaying revolving racks for keeping bottles, drawing your attention towards the mirror that suddenly appears when one opens a cupboard in the bedroom, and opening the taps in various sinks and washbasins to assure you about the "abundant" water supply. A loving mother even pulled out pictures of her daughter's and son's families who had chosen to reside in distant lands, entrusting their aged parents with the task of taking care of their investments and property in their hometown.

However amusing these stories might be, I do realize that they are sincere efforts on the part of homeowners and their families to find a good tenant for their property ( salaried people with small families are often the most coveted tenants). It is as important for an owner to find a good tenant as it is for a tenant to find a good place. And if one can strike a deal without a broker, it is ideal given that brokers charge a month's rent from both the parties. What kind of deal we ultimately strike remains to be seen.

Cold-Shouldering The Discomfort!

It is amazing how confident we are that nothing will ever happen to us. Confident to the point of being arrogant. We are smug in our belief that things happen only to others.

It all began when I stepped out into the balcony three weeks ago. Now, this is a small balcony that I use to hang my laundry everyday. So it is a familiar territory. But that day, it had rained for a short while just before the washing machine played the usual tune announcing the completion of the spin cycle. Determined to finish the chore of hanging the washed clothes, I went to the balcony with my basket. Looking at the wet floor outside, I did something that I never do. I took off my slippers and went about finishing my task barefoot.

It took one uncontrolled step on the wet surface to bring me down. I fell flat on my stomach, my left shoulder bearing most of my weight. My glasses flew away to one corner. The parapet wall was too far to hold onto it for support. Luckily there was help at home. But even with help, I could not bring myself to move for about ten minutes. Tears rolled down my face as I lay there. Shocked and dumbfounded, I was hurt as much by the fall as by the incredulity of having fallen, having slipped.

Then began the guessing game: will it be a fracture or won't it? Of course we hoped not and continued to believe so till the CT scan report was positive, confirming a fracture in the left shoulder. Before the report came, we looked for obvious signs. There was pain, but no swelling. An icepack made hastily by shoving ice cubes in a plastic bag was pressed into action. Slowly it dawned on me that I could not lift my left hand behind my head to tie my hair in a clip as I normally do.

The doctor made sure that I don't do what I could not do anyway, namely use the shoulder joint. For more than the past three weeks, my arm is tied in a sling pouch, rendering it inactive. The men in the house have risen to the occasion, "manning" the kitchen and doing sundry chores around the house. They are standing shoulder to shoulder with me in helping me cope with the situation. Sometimes they have to put their shoulders to the wheel, but they have demonstrated that they have broad shoulders. I am waiting to take the weight of these additional responsibilities off their shoulders, but for that to happen, my shoulder has to come back to normalcy. For now, opening a water bottle or a sugar or coffee tin is a challenge. Simple tasks that I performed daily look formidable.

But as they say, this too shall pass. We are not getting any younger and I should remember to look over my shoulder while moving around. The gift of having a healthy body has been underlined afresh in my mind. I look forward to having a nice shower and smelling the shampoo in my hair. We take these small pleasures too much for granted! In the mean time, I am trying my best to give the cold shoulder to all my discomfort.

A Gadget? A Legend!

If I have to name the most user-friendly, most efficient, easiest to maintain, longest serving, most trouble-free appliance in our household, it is undoubtedly our good old refrigerator. Soon, we will complete 28 years of association with it...and what a pleasure it has been to have it at our home. It stands silently in its designated place, demanding least attention while performing at its best. Its body has weakened and deteriorated being unable to withstand the ravages of time, but its soul is intact, ever willing to give...and give it does to its fullest.

We brought it home at a time when small fridges were ruling the roost in the market. It was considered to be too big for a small family like ours. But having gotten used to the convenience of a large refrigerator during our stint in the US, we went in for this one, much against the norm in those days. We were in the process of setting up our first home in India, in Delhi. Delhi was incredibly hot and humid in late August-early September. Buying a fridge was naturally the top priority.

Just back from the US and unfamiliar with how things worked in Delhi, we walked into a store. When we found that a large model of Kelvinator was suiting our needs the best, we paid the full amount in cash and went home happily, looking forward to having the refrigerator delivered soon. After waiting for a couple of days, when there were no signs of any delivery, we went back to the store to check what the problem was. The salesman--who could as well have been the owner--welcomed us cordially, as if he had known us for a very long time. Not paying heed to his overwhelming hospitality, we came directly to the point and asked him why the fridge was not yet delivered at our place. He informed us with a straight face that the model of our choice was out of stock, and would be available after a week or so. Exasperated, we demanded to know why he hadn't told us the same in the first place. He said plainly: Had I told you, you would have gone to another shop!

We learnt our lesson and soon became adept at dealing with such situations. However, the fridge which gave us many anxious moments before delivery, is working flawlessly even after almost three decades and two major moves. We have needed to call a mechanic only once or twice, that too in the early years. I remember, once it was for refilling some gas. After that, it hasn't been serviced in the last two decades or more. It does not make any noise, cools perfectly and works non-stop. I used to hear from others that they could not store ice cream properly because it would turn to slush in their relatively newer and more modern fridge. I buy huge family packs and deposit them in the freezer without any worry. It doesn't let me down ever.

What is a letdown is the body of the refrigerator. The metallic shelves are sturdy, but the plastic components like the trays, the freezer door and the little storage spaces on the inside of the fridge door are falling apart. We have simply accepted them as they are. The external appearance of the machine is bad enough to make anyone wonder if this indeed works, or is ready to be taken to a scrap dealer. Friends and family have subtly and sometimes not-so-subtly suggested that it was time we looked for another fridge, but considering the unfailing loyalty with which it has been working, we haven't had the heart to do so. Okay, a spray painting job would have made it look nicer and cleaner, but that would have meant sending it over to the workshop for a couple of days at least. We didn't want its old body to be subjected to that hardship. We have moved it only when it was unavoidable. It undertook two torturous road trips only because we were moving cities. Each time after unpacking, we plugged it in with some trepidation. It purred to life instantly, reassuring us about its wellbeing.

While it continues to enjoy a place of pride at our home, I can't help but feel that if they could make such a long-lasting and trustworthy product 30 years ago, why cannot they make it today? The technology was and is certainly in place, but market forces, consumerism and "use and throw" culture have ensured that the era of long-lasting gadgets is over. Sleeker and newer models are introduced in the market, each loaded with features promising the moon to the customers, luring them into acquiring the latest and supposedly the best. But promises are soon forgotten and gadgets stop performing to the users' satisfaction. Replacement becomes necessary and then begins the hunt for another gizmo...

In this scenario, our fridge may soon attain the status of a legend. Here's wishing it a long and healthy life!