If you are anyone like Nergish, ( God rest her soul, poor thing) you would probably not know what Akshay Tritiya is. Actually, not many people know about this day. And in fact, a few years ago while discussing the significance of day, Nergish the oldest resident of our building who was sometimes hard of hearing actually said: “OOOOh so TODAY is Akshay Chutiya?”
Unfortunately, the poor lady had not the foggiest about how mispronouncing the word can completely change the meaning of the day!
While we laughed it off, I can’t help recalling her remark every Akshay Tritiya.
It is a very auspicious day falling on the third day of the first fortnight in the second month of the Lunar calendar. And this year it is TODAY – 10th May 2024.
Defying the Law of Diminishing Returns
Unlike the theory propounded by neo-classical economists, the benefits of doing charity on this day or praying to the God or Goddess of Wealth on this day bring endless results. It is also an auspicious time to start a new project, make a new resolution take on a new venture
I can never forget the day when Nergish asked me what Akshay Chutiya was. Now anyone who has any idea of profanities in Indian languages would know that chutiya is not a word used in genteel society much less uttered by an 80+ year old dignified Parsi lady.
Akshay Tritiya is one of the 3 1/2 very auspicious days in the Hindu Lunar Calendar. The third day ( tritiya) of the second month ( Vaishakh) it is the day dedicated to the worship of the god/goddess of wealth and performing charitable acts because the benefits one gets from these are ENDLESS or NEVER DIMINISHING.
It is a day when a good Hindu does not need to consult the almanac to decide on a propitious moment to start a venture, get married, perform any religious function as a thread ceremony or commence building a house, establish relationships and purchase things of great value. Hence, many people buy a bit of gold, a new car or even a new household item such as a new cooking pot or a television!
The significance of Akshay Tritiya
On this very hot day many things happened : 1) Ganesha began writing the Mahabharat. The Mahabharat is one of the epics that resonates even today. Apart from the story, it is a philosophical treatise that guides many souls through their daily life. 2) Parshuram ( from whom my community claims descent) was born. Parashurama was an anomaly among the Brahmins. He actually wielded the bow and arrow. 3) The River Ganges came down to Earth. The Ganges is India’s lifeline and is one of the holiest rivers. Every Hindu aspires to bathe at least once in the Ganga so as to wash away his sins. 4) Sudama gave his friend Lord Krishna a bowl of puffed rice when he went to visit him as King. Unfortunately, Sudama couldn’t afford anything grander than a humble bowl of puffed rice to his friend Krishna. But Krishna being his friend, accepted it with love. 5) Kubera the lord of wealth prayed to Laxmi. Even though Kubera is the richest amongst the Gods, he still prayed to Laxmi, the goddess of wealth
Akshay Tritiya and Me
Since this is a good day to start things, my father decided to plant some Bottle Gourd seeds in his kitchen garden. That year, the bottle gourds we got were obscenely large and found the creeper crawling over the wall, encroaching into the neighbour’s garden. Naturally, she wasn’t very pleased about this and complained bitterly to him about “his thing growing too large”. ( I must explain here that the neighbour didn’t know what Bottle Gourds were called in any language other than hers and hence referred to the vegetable as “thing”)
Having been born in a traditionally vegetarian household, my introduction to non-vegetarian food wasn’t at my grannie’s table. But having been advised by the doctor ( those days there weren’t any pediatricians or nutritionists) to have a good protein intake, I was weaned on Bovril soup! Luckily my grandmother didn’t know any better and allowed us to not only keep it in her spice rack, but also use the regular utensils while boiling water and the regular cup and spoon to feed me. Indians have very strict food rules with cross contamination being a major concern.
We aren’t allowed to share food that had been tasted or dug into by someone else. Food has to be served only with the right hand making sure that the spoon is not dirtied by using a grubby hand. Utensils for special food were kept separately and even in our supposedly ‘modern’ home, cookware for non-vegetarian food was kept separately.
So the fish curry I grew up on was the one we ate at Aunty Patsy’s or Miss Bharucha’s while the chicken curry was Mrs. Khanna’s Sunday special. Our biryani was the much coveted recipe by Aziz Uncle and our Railway Mutton curry was Miss Lawrence’s family’s secret recipe. And as the years went by, our family’s table became global with recipes shared from all over the world.
However, there is something to be said for DNA. It may be extremely impolite to say this, but certain things are genetically determined. For instance, the way you make your fish curry.
I have always prided myself in being a good cook and even published a cook book! I could make any dish by merely guessing what the ingredients were and have even taught my Punjabi friends how to make home made paneer an a Chilean guest how to make the perfect pepper steak! But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t manage to convince my fish eating grandson Little Po that my fish curry was even worth tasting. Diluted though his blood line was by my brahminical daughter’s, his Saraswat blood flowed thick and strong through his veins. No amount of spice, no variety of fish could match the fish curry made in his paternal grandpa’s home.
Today, however, since Ms. Papaya expressed a desire to eat fish curry, I decided to go to the fish market and give my curry one more try.
The Grant Road Municipal Market
Despite the hundreds of online fish vendors, and the fact that our building strictly forbids fishermen from selling fish at our doorstep, I had no option but to trek all the way to the Municipal Market at Grant Road. Every Municipal ward has a market where fresh produce is sold and even though online shopping is the current trend, many of them have been redone to make them more attractive to the few who dare venture to shop for fresh.
What a change it was with clean granite floors, gutters that actually contained the water and none of the bandicoots, cats and pigeons that used to wait to grab the fish that got away. But what happened to the fisherfolk? It used to be such a colourful place with the fisherwomen dressed in bright gaudy sarees, their earlobes hanging down with traditional gold earrings, flowers in their hair and shouting out instructions to the men who lugged around the baskets of fish. These women would flirt with their male customers, yell at the young layabouts and generally exchange pleasantries with one another.
Luckily my old friend Kala was still around as was Indrayani but it won’t be long before these two also abandon the fish market as their children have now got off the boat and into staid well paying desk jobs. I only hope I get a chance to take the Little People to the fish market one day, before this form of shopping completely dies out.
One of the more pleasurable activities of an urban lifestyle is browsing through a bookshop. The minute you step inside, you are greeted by a distinct air of calm and the heady smell of new books, piles and piles of them waiting patiently to be picked up by the curious reader. There was a time when I would read anything that came my way apart from books – labels on bottles, advertisements and even discarded newspapers that were used to wrap something in. But gradually, as my days got busier and busier my reading time decreased. What was once a pleasure became a luxury and sometimes a chore. I only read books that really interested me or labels that I had to read. and soon my apathy extended itself to bookshops and I only visited the bookshops when I HAD to . It didn’t help that I had to dig out my reading glasses before reading anything. Gone were the days when I could casually pick up something and read it in a jiffy. Now the whole thing had become a production, right from searching for my spectacles in my cavernous old lady handbag, opening the case, wiping the lenses,, putting on the glasses and then reading what had caught my eye. This doesn’t help for spontaneity does it?
So, no matter how swanky the bookshops had become and no matter how enticing their coffee shops or attractive their window displays or even expansive their range of wares, I stubbornly resist the urge to step inside .
Rediscovering the joys of a Bookshop
But it was only last week that I came upon a book that spurred my interest to pick up a book and actually read it. ‘The Personal Librarian,’ is a delightful tale about a young coloured woman who passes off as white and works and flourishes in the rarified world of the rich and famous NYC 400, as the personal librarian to no less a person than JP Morgan !
This tale not only deals with the racial inequities that still existed in early 20th century USA , but it also stirred in me a desire to re-visit the world of books and explore more such gems.
I must confess that for the past decade or so, I’ve perceived books as potential dust collectors and have reduced my purchase of books. After I’ve finished reading a book , I’m loathe to keep it on my shelf and prefer passing it on to a friend or even more sacrilegious, selling it to Chandu who comes once a month to buy my old papers, magazines, bottles and other re-cyclable trash. Appalling as it may sound, I honestly feel that to have piles and piles of books that you never revisit seems like a total waste of real estate . After all , far from being a room full of books , my library actually consists of a single bookshelf on a wall, and space being a rare commodity in my city of Mumbai, every inch counts.
But occasionally, I miss the smell of new books and peep inside as I walk past the local bookshop. Luckily for me “Crossword’ is literally a hop, skip and a jump away so last week I actually walked in.
I love this bookshop because it was the first to break away from the mold of the musty, dusty bookshops that I grew up with. Growing up in Pune, Saturday mornings were often a treat because we were taken to the legendary book store off Main Street, ‘Manneys’ ,to browse around and pick up a paper back or two of our favourite author to devour over the weekend. That huge, big shop was like an Aladdin’s cave – dark and musty with row upon row of books while the owner, Mr. Mani, a tall thin gentleman with a moustache to match wandered through, ready to help with a recommendation or pull down a book that was out of reach. It was a great place to be lost in especially as there were often piles or cartons of books that were yet to be sorted and kept on the shelves, lying around, behind which we would hide and stealthily ‘leaf ‘ through a book. I must confess that there were many an Enid Blyton that I read in this way – especially having mastered the technique of speed reading .
Manney’s was replaced by ‘Strand’ when we moved to Bombay, and which was minuscule compared to the gigantic Manneys but equally fascinating with its vast collection of books. And of course, like Manney’s the Sales Staff were conversant with each and every book they had in the store and would happily recommend books to their customers.
The New Age Bookshop
But ‘Crossword ‘ was completely mind boggling . It was spacious , bright and air conditioned! Plus it had comfortable reading chairs so that you could openly browse through books and magazines. No more reading surreptitiously! I couldn’t have been happier with this new trend in book stops.
New Age book shops also have a range of goodies to browse through like stationery, soft toys and stuff that is ideal to gift.
So last week, when I had a bit of time to spare, I stepped into the store and rejuvenated my spirits with the wonderful books that I was missing all this while .
Going beyond the book
Crossword is a typical example of the new age book shop with its gift shop section that has quirky handbags, stationery, chocolates and even potted plants . The best part is the little café on the mezzanine ‘Third Wave Coffee‘ where one can meet up with a friend or just settle down to a nice refreshing cup of coffee or even catchup with a few emails on your laptop.
Crossword also hosts authors like the Sudha Murthy even that I took my grand daughter to last year and truly goes beyond the book.
There are many such charming bookstores all over the city but I find spending hours in traffic just to browse through a bookstore quite difficult to handle. So I will keep myself happy with the local bookstore.
And this time round, I found my anxiety vanishing away as I saw all the familiar names like Jeffrey Archer, James Patterson and Haruki Murakami share space with newer authors who piqued my interest. I felt so refreshed that I succumbed to the temptation of buying Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni’s latest book ‘An Uncommon Love: The Early Life of Sudha and Narayana Murthy’.
With this slim, hardcover edition tucked away in my bag, I walked out of the shop, happy and content, with the look of a cat who licked the cream.
Twenty- five Seven 