Bombay Blues!

January 10, 2009
Bombay

I have entitled this installment 'Bombay Blues' because it has been a hectic two weeks in every sense of the term--physically, mentally, emotionally--I feel exhausted and badly in need of TLC. In the many years that I have spent vacationing in Bombay, I have rarely fallen ill. This time, the Bombay Bug hit me within 48 hours of arrival, leaving me nauseous and bilious and causing me to miss my little nephew Arav's birthday party. Indeed, I lay fast asleep in this bedroom as he cut his Barney cake and frolicked with his buddies. I also missed the wedding that evening of my relative Marilyn Dias as I simply couldn't stand the thought of boogieing on a night when I was so weak on my feet.

Just as I recovered, Chriselle caught the bug and was laid up for a couple of days and then just when she turned the corner, Chris fell victim to it! He seemed to have taken it far worse than we did as he slept for almost two straight days and succumbed to such terrible weakness that he did not feel quite like himself until several days had passed. He and Chriselle made the most of their few days in Goa and did actually find the courage to feast on Tiger Prawns despite their delicate bellies!

Three more weddings followed thereafter, not to mention the pre-dinner parties that accompany such festivity in India. We drank and ate far more than we are accustomed, stayed out in the open air till the small hours (subjecting ourselves to the ill effects of the 'dew'--as my Dad puts it) which then brought on colds and exposing ourselves to Bombay's pollution, which then brought on my hoarse throat. Still, I'm not complaining. The weddings gave me the chance to meet the members of my extended family who converged on Bombay from all over the world and to reconnect with a few cousins whom I have not seen in eons. We exchanged email addresses and have promised to stay closely in touch. That's the beauty of these wedding receptions--they bring family together like no other events can do and I love that aspect of these occasions.

I was especially pleased to be able to spend time with my cousin Blossom who was visiting Bombay from Madras, at a time when she is healing from the loss of her husband Placid. In the mutually satisfying chats we had together, we were able to communicate our mutual concern about those things in life that most worry us as we grow older with our children. It was Blossom who introduced me to her homeopath, Dr. Alpana Nabar, in whom she has deep faith--a faith born out of eight years as a patient. Alpana was confident that my plantar fascittis can be cured through homeopathic pills and I have returned to London with three months supply. She has also recommended that I continue with the exercises three times daily. My friend Fr. Austin Norris then added the third ingredient to the mix--prayer--which he said would finally do the trick and make me right as rain again!

Apart from physical issues, a great deal of emotional stress also dogged me throughout the trip to Bombay. The sight each year of my parents who seem to get slower, more frail and delicate every time I see them, only serves to put me in a state of dread for their future health and well being. Though I was pleased to see that, by and large, my mother is weathering up to her various afflictions rather stoically, it was still pitiful to see how much of a shadow of her old self she is today. My Uncle Alex is no less weak and pathetically thin as he too deals with the trials of a serious illness. Visiting my ailing relatives is difficult indeed and I had to find every ounce of strength to carry out these duties. So while the wedding celebrations continued, there was also the challenge of integrating once again with close family members who have seen better days.

Reconnecting with Chriselle was also marvelous. Much as we missed each other throughout the four months that have kept us apart, the close proximity of our lives over the past two weeks as we battled with my parents' minuscule accommodations and the occasion that her recent engagement offered for us to re-examine our lives proved to be emotionally charged. The mother-daughter bond, so precious at this time of her preparation for a wedding, was reinstated and I am hoping has left us both with valuable insights into how much we love and cherish each other as we have bungled along. As always, it was a joy to be in her company, to chat with her late into the night, to admire her astute perceptions and the manner in which she analyses situations and experiences. I find myself thriving in the warmth of her energy, her vivacity, her joie de vivre, and having these two precious weeks with her was a gift from above for which I am very grateful! I am struck by the fact that now that I have become a transnational, it was not in the USA or the UK that I reconnected with my daughter but in Bombay, the city in which we spent the happiest early years of our lives together and which continues to hold the fondest memories for the two of us. Introducing this city to Chris was a shared pleasure as was inducting him into the Indian cutlural ethos.

Getting to know Chris over two weeks in Bombay was for me a wonderful thing and I came away with nothing but admiration for the manner in which he dealt with the lack of privacy or a space to call his own as well as the trials of illness in a strange country. He was severely disappointed that the studio apartment that we thought would be at his disposal for the length of his stay did not actually materialize, but he took it with grace and fortitude. The attempt to procure the studio led us on a wild goose chase through the bureaucratic set up of the Bombay Police--an institution that is Kafka-esque in the extreme. The fact that Chris says that he will be back in Bombay again next year is proof to me that he had a great time and made the most of his stay in India. His sense of humor never failed him even in the most trying of times and for that I was awed. Not the least of the many images I carry back with me is Chris' obsession with the Bombay mosquito menace. It seems that he was paranoid about getting malaria and despite being on malaria pills spent every waking hour chasing and attempting to control the mosquito population in the vicinity of Silverhome, my parents' building. By the end of the visit, we nicknamed him the Mosquito Patrol!

But eventually the late late nights, all in a row, took their toll on all of us. Jetlag and mosquitoes kept us tossing at night while the peace of deep dawn sleep was shattered by an endless row of vendors who rang the doorbell at the crack of dawn. Lack of sleep caused nerves to remain frayed and tempers ran wild. That too, I guess, is part of the package deal of reconnecting with family members across the generations. In the midst of the adjustments we all had to make, it was fabulous to get to know my little nephew Arav so well and to see how beautifully my niece Anaya has grown. Both Chriselle and I felt as if we connected with Arav in a very special way and despite the paucity of time and the illness we all went through, we were able to play with him, dance with him (at the weddings and parties), read to him, watch movies with him, meet his friends, etc. and for a short time at least, become a part of his life. Anaya is still too little to be able to connect with us on the same level but we look forward to the day when she too will be five and will be fully acquainted with her relatives across the seas.

My friend Betsy Ives from Southport, Connecticut, did arrive with her friend Edele Hovnanian for a couple of days stay in Bombay and I was able to give them, as well as Chriselle and Chris, a lovely walking tour of downtown colonial Bombay from the Taj, site of the recent terrorist carnage, to the Victoria Terminus where there were even more casualties. They seemed to have enjoyed it immensely and I look forward to downloading our pictures so that we can have perpetual memories of a very interesting morning. The tour confirmed for me my own love of the city of my birth and to come to grips with the many changes it has undergone over the years. Most recent evidence of its loss of trust were the many security guards posted at strategic city locations and the locking of gates at institution buildings that were once wide open for exploration.

Finally, a word about the hospitality we experienced everywhere, starting with my parents who spared no pains to make our stay as comfortable as possible even at the expense of their own comfort. Chris told my mother repeatedly that he would always remember her marvelous breakfasts of fried eggs and bruns--the breakfast bun with the crisp outer shell and softer center. My dad, as always, took his role as host very seriously indeed and catered to our every need by going out in search of special dietary items to suit the vagaries of our temperamental tummies--pomegranates, orange juice, guavas, the finest apples, papayas and melons. My brother Russel had his entire routine disturbed by our presence, but took it all in his stride. Though we jostled for closet space and mirror time, I think, in the end, it will be the bustle created by just these restrictions that brought us all close together and will provide memories over which, no doubt, we will laugh as the years go by.

I will always cherish memories of the lovely New Year Day Party that was hosted by my parents at their place and which brought together so many of my closest family members in a shared spirit of fun and friendship. My Dad had one of his sing-alongs which was a treat indeed and my Mum put forth a laden table that included the traditional delicacy, roast suckling. Despite their advancing years, my parents still enjoy opening their home and heart to loved ones and, in doing so, they have taught us valuable lessons on hospitality and generosity.

I met almost no friends on this trip, spoke to only a few on the phone, and went out for meals only rarely. Indeed I was unable to eat pani poori and kulfi falooda at Elco--a practice I started many years ago on my trips to India. However, I went through the process of cauterizing the many warts on my face that have developed over the past few years through a viral infection. Sheryl Sen in Oshiwara, Andheri, did a good job, though I was a nervous wreck throughout and quite mangled the hands of my poor sister-in-law Lalita who might have thought I was in labor the way I wrung them! I was a hideous sight at the weddings as my face slowly went through the stages on the road to healing. Still, having placed myself in the 'cauterization mindset' before I left London, I was determined to find the courage to go through the process despite my needle phobia and I hope to have a clear complexion before I return to teaching classes next week.

It was a very different 2 weeks in Bombay for me. I'm not sure how I will remember them in the long run, but I am glad that Chriselle, Chris and I had the chance to spend precious time with my parents who at the end of our visit had their own nerves shot by a fault in the electric system that cut off the lights one evening, a refrigerator whose compressor chose to shut down the following evening, a water filter that began to drip at the same time that the geyser in the bathroom also sprang a leak. How my parents took each crisis as it came and found a way to resolve it was a lesson in patience and practicality for me. I accompanied them to one of Bandra's new malls to check out a new fridge and in the process learned a great deal about how differently Bombay and its people function.

At the end of the day, both Chriselle and I found the experience of returning to Bombay rather overwhelming but just as I began to get used to my new environment and to function effectively within its framework, it was time to bid my goodbyes to my nearest and dearest and leave the city of my birth behind me.