Twenty- five Seven

Friday sky in a monsoon lull

July 19, 2019

The monsoon always makes for beautiful skies when shaded clouds play with the sun. This week we’ve had a lull in the monsoon. The sunsets have been pretty brilliant but unfortunately I’ve been unable to capture any.

After two very wet weeks, we’ve got a dry spell. While my clothes are happy, the city is not. The lakes that supply us water are only half full.

Let’s hope the dry spell dries up and it rains once again.

Like all Mumbaikars, I track the monsoon’s progress because really heavy rains can throw things out of whack.

Apart from the regular updates from the Indian Meteorological Department, I also rely on the Indian Almanac.

According to this system, rainfall depends on the vehicle that the sun uses to enter a particular constellation.

Currently, the Sun’s entry into the Punarvasu nakshatra will be on a ram or goat. And goats aren’t too fond of water. Hence the rainfall at this time is scanty. Unfortunately, this dry spell will probably continue until the end of this month as the sun enters the Pushya nakshatra on a donkey – another animal who doesn’t like water too much.

However, I’m not too confident about this rainfall prediction because the almanac applies to the whole Universe. And while in this week and the last, we experienced a lull in the monsoon, our compatriots in Assam were literally washed away in the floods!

How are the skies in your part of the world?

Happy weekend all!

Ciao,
First day of school

July 18, 2019

Today Ms Papaya and Little Po started their first day of school.

Last night Ms Papaya was too excited to sleep. After four months holiday, she couldn’t wait to get back to school . Just before she fell asleep she told me that she wanted ‘limboo paani’ in her water bottle and some nachni chips , badam and raisins in her snack box.

Funnily enough this morning I got this message from my school Whatsapp group.

Many of my classmates are grandparents ( one of them has a 12 year old !) and we often discuss the way our grandchildren are being brought up .

I suppose our parents were shocked at how we brought up our kids and our grandparents horrified by the way we were brought up.

From the benign neglect of my grandparents ( my parents tell me that their parents never had to drop and pick them from school as they walked there . They never had to meet teachers and never had to pack lunch boxes) to the more concerned parenting of my parents’ generation , parenting has transitioned to a complete scientific study involving spreadsheets and counselling services.

But somethings remain the same – new school uniforms, new shoes, a snack box and bottle and that apprehension on both sides as we stand at the bus stop and wave the little ones goodbye.

Today when I picked up the little ones from school, it struck me that Wow Dinga is already a big boy. Two years into school, he is already one tooth down and thrilled to be the big brother on the bus that will take his siblings to HIS school .

It won’t be long before I attend their college graduations and remember with nostalgia their first day of school.

Ciao
The curious case of the rocking chair and the laundry

July 13, 2019

Mary, Mary, quite contrary,

How does the laundry grow?

Upon my teak wood rocking chair

From none to ten and more!

To paraphrase a popular nursery rhyme, I’m amazed at how the laundry in my house just seems to grow. Especially on my rocking chair.

The rocking chair

In my bedroom is a rocking chair – a handsome teak wood piece flown down all the way from Delhi. This was in the mid-eighties where furniture did not fly all over the place. Nor was it manufactured by furniture designers. In fact those were the days when trusty Bhagwati or Ramesh Mistry, made your customised furniture under your watchful supervision in your backyard or miniscule balcony. So my rocking chair, crafted and designed by Taaru ( a furniture shop in Delhi) was doubly special.

This chair rocked in my bedroom for several years till one day a nephew rocked it over and disjointed it completely!

I was heartbroken seeing the slats of wood fall apart and was about to consign it to Parmar the jaripuranawala to sell it at Chor Bazar.

Read all about Mumbai’s fascinating Chor Bazar here.

But the chair was brought specially by my dad all the way from Delhi, so when Ramesh Mistry offered to patch it up, I readily agreed.

Since then, the chair has rocked me and my babies in various stages of life. I used to read on it, relaxing with the music playing in the background while the girls used to study to its gentle rhythm.

However, of late, it has become the receptacle of washed and ironed laundry, kept there before being transferred to their final destination. And the chair never seems to be bare. No sooner do I put away one load, than another load miraculously appears. Higher than the one I kept away, the clothes balancing precariously in a random pile where a bed sheet can be kept on a pile of socks and handkerchiefs!!

I wonder how to solve this problem. Should I find another place to keep the laundry or should I wear disposable clothes?

Do you have a problem like this and how do you tackle it?

Let me know in the comments below.

Ciao