Twenty- five Seven

Dark glasses

December 4, 2024

I have always had a passion for dark glasses. somehow they lend an air of sophistication and complete the look of a lady of the world. They also add a bit of mystery. The eyes are the windows to the soul and when you can’t see behind the darkened lenses, your thoughts remain unknown.

So whenever I travelled abroad, my first steps would be towards the Duty-Free section selling dark glasses. Over the years, I’ve bought many, from branded ones to tacky ones. And I’ve received many as a gift too. This gift like perfumes is a much valued gift and treasured possession.

Around four decades ago, my father made a trip to the Netherlands and returned with a pair of Polaroid dark glasses. They were funky with their green lenses and bright red frames. And they were cute too, drawing comments from young and old every time I wore them. I wore them a lot, especially when I was wearing my everyday casuals. Over the weekend, we had made a trip to Talegaon to keep away our extra furniture and knick-knacks that we couldn’t bear to be parted from. We were in the process of making a ‘Memory House’.

On the way home, I reached out to wear the dark glasses which I had inadvertently left on the back seat of the car only to find them broken.

I couldn’t help feeling sad seeing them snapped so neatly in two.

I wonder if it was a sign from the universe that the links to my recently deceased father were slowly being broken.

Ciao
A Memory house

December 2, 2024

Over the past five and a half months we’ve been giving our house a new look. This obviously involved a lot of work. What began as a small job, dragged on for months and turned out to be more than just a job. It actually was a life-changing experience.

For the first time, we realised what living in a multigenerational family really meant. Not only were we four different generations living together, but we also had multi-generational artefacts, often going beyond the four generations present. We had books, walking sticks, rackets, photo albums, pots and pans belonging to Uncles and Aunts of earlier generations!

So in the house clean-up, we discovered many things that had to be put away, nay, buried in a graveyard or donated to a museum of late 19th Century life in India.

However, Hubby Dear being extremely sentimental refused to part with any object. So we decided to pack things up and keep them in an empty flat that we had purchased in Talegaon. That would be our ‘Memory House’. It was also a cheaper option than keeping it in storage.

Thank God for men who pee on the road!

We set off last Saturday in our tiny Hyundai i10 which is also old and retired from active Sales. However, it has hardly any mileage on its dashboard and is still a trusty car.

Or so we thought.

No sooner had we passed the last available petrol pump at the end of the Atal Setu, we developed a flat.

Pulling to the side of the road, the driver somehow managed to jack-up the car and began the process of removing the wheel to fix the stepney. We didn’t realise the 7 years of scanty use would cause rubber degeneration and a jammed wheel. No amount of kicking and pulling released the stubborn wheel.

So we packed up the stepney and continued ahead till we found the next petrol pump. Highway assistance is hard to come by. Slowly, with our hearts in our mouths, we crawled along for a few kilometres or so before we saw a tow van packed on the side. Alleluia! Help was at hand.

But the van was driverless and looking ahead, we spotted him a few metres away having a pee. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t disgusted at this filthy practice. Hubby Dear jumped out of the car and grabbed the man’s attention before he could zip up.

Luckily he agreed to help. This time round, he went to his van, picked up a huge sledgehammer and thwacked the stubborn wheel out of its comfort zone.

Thanking him profusely in cash and kind, we continued our journey to the ‘Memory House’.

I also thanked God for men who pee on the road!

Ciao
Book Review

November 27, 2024

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

A Fistful of My Sky – Memories of Jawhar by Anand Gokani Md.

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

A simple book about a medical intern’s experience with the Aboriginals living just a few hundred miles out of Mumbai. One can hardly believe that two cultures can co-exist just a few miles apart. The sophisticated, cosmopolitan world of Mumbai contrasts with the simple, basic, almost back-to-nature life that Dr. Anand Gokani finds in Jawhar, during his compulsory internship rounding off four gruelling years of MBBS.
Initially shocked, the young doctor and his four colleagues quickly adapt to the simple living space and ill-equipped hospital. Though most cases are snake bites and deliveries of newborns, some challenging situations demand quick thinking and a lot of good luck.
The doctor navigates easily with his patients who range from simple village folk to townspeople and royalty.
Finding solace in long walks in the countryside and interacting with all the people he meets in rural practice, the doctor discovers new insights and meaning into life that help shape his character.
Simply written in a lucid style, this book is an easy read and recommended to all those young graduating doctors who would rather skip the rural internship.

So grab a copy this weekend and enjoy a lazy Sunday read.

Ciao