• I’m sitting here on a blue and white striped couch in a New Jersey apartment, surrounded by a benign looking brown, soft, furry teddy bear , an open mouthed Elmo and a faintly bored blonde doll who is incongruously dressed in her terry towel sarong .

    It is no time for a romp on the beach , I want to tell Miss Blondie and lucky for you you can’t feel else you’d have turned blue with cold. She stares at me vacuously through her unseeing eyes as I look outside and see the falling snow. All of it turning into water before it hits the ground – it’s too warm to remain snow my friend Cee reassures me sending my fear and apprehension of being caught in a snow storm.

    These last few days of unsettled weather – grey and wet alternating with crisp and sunny and occasionally a snow shower like today have left me equally unsettled . I left behind a sunny Mumbai that was gearing up to the Spring Festival of Holi. Here the winter doesn’t seem to end .

    There are times when I feel that life has just two seasons – intolerable heat or freezing cold : extremes that leave me yearning for something more balanced. Equanimous days of temperate climes where life goes on at an unhurried pace.

    But on the other hand the boring predictability of each day would be dampen the surprises unfolding each day detracting from the challenges and joys each moment brings.

    I hear the train horn in the distance and wait for Ms Papaya to return home with her mother . My pot of daal is bubbling on the electric stove. Soon it will be joined by a spicy green and my latest thrill – the glorious rising of a hot phulka!

    But before I get back to the kitchen, I will loll around on the couch some more , reading pages from a book that captures a life of decadence long passed. Or are those stories just re-played with a new cast of jet setting souls for whom the champagne always bubbles and the laughter never seems to end?

    I’ve already spent the morning getting my girls off to work, talked to people back at home before their day turns into night . I’ve showered and slathered my body lotion and will have a cup of coffee before the girls return .

    This is a glimpse of an almost typical day in my untypical life of these days.

    Linking up with #FridayReflections hosted by Shalini and Corinne.

    And with Mackenzie Glanville for #ablogginggoodtime-82 who blogs at Redlections from Me

     

     

    Happy weekend all!

    Image of Bellybytes

  • Why I hate Holi

    After the cold winter days when the sun gets warmer, we in India celebrate the coming of Spring with colour . People get together to throw coloured powder on one another, sing and dance to welcome better days .

    However, for me , it’s that time of year when people come banging at your door to wish you a happy Holi.

    Luckily this year , I’m too far away for anyone to bang on my door but funnily enough I got the very same message from two different friends in two different continents wishing me a very happy Holi.

    But it’s not happy for me , I want to tell them. I just hate this festival.

    And for more reasons than one.

    Why I hate Holi

    • It is dirty : What is so exciting about having colour thrown on your face ? Or worse still, coloured water that only has you looking black and unrecognisable?

    I remember being terrorised by the thought of some one flinging colour on my clothes or squirting me with water. Not only was this messy but extremely icky. The kids would either throw a dry powder or worse still, make a thick paste with which they would plaster your face . And horror of horrors, when they ran out of gulal or colour, they would actually pick up MUD and smear each other with that!

    • It is an excuse for groping: Yes , believe it or not, I used to actually cringe at the thought of the old uncles or older boys putting colour all over you in a manner that was quite revolting .

    With colour making them unrecognisable, some of the unsavoury elements in our colony would grab this chance to feel Uppal the girls who were actually out of their reach in normal times.

    • It is dangerous : Organic colours are something new. When we were growing up the local baniya would sell off anything as Holi colour and if you weren’t careful, had serious skin problems with the dyes used . I remember one Holi, one bright spark actually put silver oil paint on everyone and they all thought it a brilliant idea till they discovered that their eyes were smarting with the smell and fumes the paint let off .

    One Holi, my mother-in-law who was on holiday found a water balloon hit her through the open window of the car she was traveling in. She sustained an eye injury which was minor compared to the damage she could have sustained, assured the ophthalmologist who treated her black and swollen eye.

    • It is rowdy: More often than not , Holi is a licence to binge drink, dance and even take ganja laced thandai which makes the revellers even more raucous and rowdy.

    I remember even in our girls hostel, the girls would bang on your door and insist on dragging you out to join in the “fun”. If this is what the girls did, I’d hate to imagine what the boys were up to .So do you find it weird that Holi was one of my least loved festivals?

    It wasn’t always like this though. As little children , we played Holi with our cousins . That was fun , sedate and contained . But as I approached my teens and was living in a large colony, I began to dread the day. To avoid being pulled out , I would actually get into a public bus and go up and down the same route till the festival was officially declared over at lunch time .

    However, to each his own and I wish all those who celebrate this festival a happy holi.

    Do not forget that this is a Spring Festival, a festival of joy.

    Image of Bellybytes

  • As February draws to a close , I realise I have a lot to be grateful for .

    Milestone birthday

    This month has always been special for me because it is my birthday month . And this year was special because I turned 60. Now in today’s day and age 60 is the new 40 so it is no big deal but somehow something seems different . Many of my friends who had active careers are thinking of retiring and those of us who did ‘nothing’ are changing gears and still doing nothing at a slower pace.

    But this birthday was special because Anna Shetty actually took it upon herself to organise a surprise party. So secret was this party that I actually felt my birthday would go unsung and I indulged in a bout of extreme self pity. This finally led her to divulge her plan . But I was thrilled to have so many people make a fuss over me and am grateful for that.

    My birthday was more than just the chocolate cake – it was a quiet celebration of a milestone with my near and dear ones. I am grateful that I could enjoy their company.

    Travel

    While I enjoy seeing the world, I’m queasy when it comes to long flights . And with the strange weather patterns these days , I was apprehensive about my journey to New Jersey . Luckily the weather held and I could enjoy the 7 movies that I watched during the flight .

    While the plane was flying into Newark, with only a minute to touchdown, all I could see was a white nothingness and my heart literally froze . Where was the terminal? Was it hiding behind haze? Smog ? Snow? Luckily it wasn’t any of them and I was super excited to have little Ms Papaya come running like a bolt of pink sweetness to welcome me with her heart shaped balloons. What a blessing it is to have grandchildren at both ends – one to bid you a teary farewell and the other to welcome you with love .

    In this cold weather it’s wonderful to meet warm, loving people and I am grateful for the company of friends who’ve opened up their homes and their hearts .

    But February like the end of winter is a mix of good and sad experiences . Illness has reared its ugly head back in my home in Mumbai. I worry about those left behind but am grateful that they have each other and can manage without me. This gives me the opportunity to be there for Ms Papaya.

    For many of my readers today is already the First of March but for me , the last few hours of February are still ticking by.

    I hope March has more pleasant memories to look forward to .

    Image of BellybytesLinking up with #Gratitude Circle hosted by Vidya Sury

    And also linking with Shirley Corder .

    Thankful Thursday 09
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