Twenty- five Seven

Wishing Summer Goodbye

June 2, 2012

Wild Indian berries

It’s time to wish summer goodbye

When it gets so hot that your eyes find it difficult to stay open,
When the sun gets so bright that all you see is a blinding whiteness,
When the drops of sweat come down so fast that it’s like standing under a shower,
When the breeze is so still that even a hair doesn’t move
When the blue in the sky gets mixed up with grey
That’s when you know it’s time to say goodbye
To those hot days of summer.

Ripe jackfruit

Alas, the market so full of summer fruit like ripe jackfruit that inundates the street with its strong overpowering smell , fat black jamuns that have flooded the market at an astronomical rate and wild Indian berries of the Shabari fame (the poor peasant woman who tasted each and every berry before offering it to Lord Rama who was in the neighbourhood) and peanuts and toddy palm hearts filled with a sweet cooling squishiness will soon give way to lychees, chickoos and cherries and fruit from the North.

Peaches, plums and cherries

The Portabellos are here!

While the rest of the world is saying hello to summer, we in Mumbai are bidding it goodbye. And with summer’s end come the cherries and plums and apricots . Portobello Mushrooms – fresh fat and succulent at the food stalls gladdened my heart Though a lady shook her head. ” It must be bad” she said shaking her head when I swooped on them in glee!

I will be entertaining our friends tonight and will be making my own version of a Mushroom risotto. I will serve with grilled yellow and red peppers. I’ll start with a cream of spinach soup with garlic bread . I’ll serve my favourites spaghetti al’olio, roast chicken and fried potato salad with a glass of chilled white wine. And to round it off I’ll have diced mango and ice cream – the perfect way to bid summer goodby
Another photo on the wall

May 31, 2012

Several years ago hubby dear and I were visiting Chennai and staying with a dear family friend. Aunty S lived on the first floor of a small little house near T Nagar. As we sat on her over stuffed sofa , I couldn’t help but notice all her ancestors neatly lined on the walls staring down at us. Seeing my eyes dart upwards, she said
“What to do, yeverybody dead. First my daddy died, then mummy, then uncle’s daddy and mummy. This is Uncle’s granny and his brother. And that is my brother. Last year my wolder sister also died and now Uncle has also gone. What to do? Yeveryday I look and see and think of them?”she said solemnly shaking her head and barely holding back her tears.” One day I vill also become photo on wall.”

Ever since that day I always think of people dying and becoming photos on the wall.

Last week I heard of an acquaintance passing away and was wondering whether to go for the condolence meeting. It was just as well I didn’t because this morning I saw his widow and daughter climbing up the staircase in the Club and actually sharing some kind of a joke between them. Perhaps it was good they have got over their loss but I felt stupid in going forward to condole so I just let them be……

Then this evening when I walked down to the Tailor’s I was shocked to see my old tailor had become a photo on the wall ! He was only 45 and had no history of bad health. All he had was a pain in the chest and a premonition that his time had come. So he took some medicine for the pain and just lay down till his heart stopped ticking.

It’s strange to think how soon one can become a photo on the wall.
Closed for Business

May 31, 2012

Today the streets are eerily empty
Not a taxi or bus to be seen.
Today is quieter
than a normal Sunday.
A day of complete enforced rest.

Today is a day of rest. Forced rest because the Goons-that-be decided that the Government-that-is should become the Government-that-ought-to-be i.e. for the people.

Strikes are almost a thing of the past but since the Arab Spring uprising of last year, it has once again become fashionable to come onto the streets and protest. I remember growing up in the late 60’s and early 70’s when sit- ins and protests were absolutely “cool” and “trendy”. Young men with long straggly locks, with “Kolhaps” ( Kolhapuri chappals), jhola bags ( a limp cloth bag) khadi kurtas, faded jeans and a mean cigarette dangling from the side of the mouth, skulking around half stoned accompanied by their girl friends almost identically dressed but with a ton of silver bangles jangling on each arm, ears pierced with multiple earrings, dark kohl lined eyes and huge big red dots plonked bang in the middle of the forehead, would sit on the street outside the University supporting some agitation or the other. Sometimes there would be marches with placards and sloganeering leaders othertimes it would just be a peaceful sit-in with the kids spouting Marx and waving the V sign of peace.

Party workers protested differently – with stone pelting and water cannons. Shopkeepers would be forced to down their shutters and window panes smashed. Pillaging and looting were natural fall outs of the “Bandh” and streets would wear a deserted look. Gangs of Goons would roam the street with harmless soda bottles or sometimes the more dangerous Molotov cocktails while people cowered behind closed windows , sneaking occasional glances below.

More often than not a call to strike work was unjustified and foolish – a mere way for the politicians to remind the populace that they did exist. And the damage strikes inflicted was quite unimaginable. Apart from the loss of manhours there was loss of life and property. Examinations were postponed and celebrations had to be cancelled…………All this in the name of justice.

Protests have changed with the times – In fact this generation of young people is far too bothered about tweeting and texting rather than come out on the streets. Apart from the Medical students protesting a few years ago, student agitations are a thing of the past and it is left to the Goons to conduct protests and disrupt normal life.

Today the streets are eerily empty
Not a taxi or bus to be seen.
Today is quieter
than a normal Sunday.
A day of complete enforced rest.