Indian Thanksgiving, Prepping for Trip to Hyderabad and Dinner at Otter’s Club with Shahnaz

Sunday, October 7, 2018

Bombay

Indian Thanksgiving Sunday Spent Prepping for Hyderabad and Dinner with Shahnaz at Otters Club

Namaste from Bombay!

Today was the day the Church in India has declared Thanksgiving Day. It is entirely arbitrary and has no significance whatsoever with anything historical or cultural.  Like everything that involves borrowing ideas from the West, there is no rhyme or reason to it—Thanksgiving is a big deal in America and Canada, so let’s have Thanksgiving in India too. Now don’t get me wrong. It’s not that I have anything against setting aside one Sunday in the year to give Thanks.  It’s just that the concept is so new and so alien to so many Indian Catholics that only a tiny fraction of them understand its meaning or know how to mark it. My Dad has been taking it seriously and over the past few years, ever since it was instituted, uses the day to call a bunch of people who have helped him or my brother Russel over the year or whose gestures of loving and caring and helpfulness he has appreciated all year. In years gone by, he has actually hosted a lunch in his home for a selection of these folks and has made the day meaningful for himself and those for whom he is grateful.

     Not so this year. With Russel convalescing at home and so much on his mind, the last thing he felt up to doing was organizing a Thanksgiving meal. He had also attended the Saturday evening Mass last night (which I missed as I had dinner scheduled with my friends Anil and Ninaz). I went alone for the 8.00 am Mass after having been awake since 5.00 am, blogging, sending off the final approval on my new Goa book, chatting with Llew on the phone, etc. 

     The Mass was concelebrated by two priests—one whom I did not know or recognize and another that was introduced to the congregation as a visiting Italian priest named Fr. Andre. It was a Mass like any other with no mention of Thanksgiving during the sermon. After Communion, however, Fr. Savio took to the lectern and told the congregation that they would be receiving cards after Mass that they were to take home. They were asked to gather around the table and recite the prayer together  after they had exchanged messages of thankfulness about and with each other. I thought the whole thing was rather farcical as people looked bemused. Anyway, that was that.

Buying Bagels for Breakfast:

     As I had to do Russel’s dressing and help my Dad with some medical paperwork after Mass, I decided to have breakfast with him. I, therefore, stopped at a popular Pali Hill eatery known as The Bagel Shop and ordered three bagels: two Everything bagels and one cinnamon-raisin bagel. I also ordered sun-dried tomato and honey cream cheeses and had the man toast them all for me. I then hurried home, five minutes away, to Dad’s. HIs housekeeper made us coffee while I prepared the bagels and then Dad, Russel and I enjoyed hot toasted bagels for breakfast—this is the sort of Sunday breakfast that Llew and I often have at home; so I was introducing something of an Almeida tradition into the D’Souza household. As it turned out, Russel loved them but Dad thought they “had no taste.” In other words, he did not care for them! Shame! 

Dressing Russel’s Skin Infections:

     Right after breakfast, we went to Russel’s room to get his dressing done for the skin infections that have erupted. I was happy to see that, as expected, a scab has formed over the tiny pea-sized wound through which the drainage tube had been inserted to draw out the synovectal fluid that had accumulated in his knee.  This meant that my dressing had worked and the ointment had done its magic. I prepared the glycerine magnesium-sulphate ointment for the skin infections and spread it generously all over the knee.  I then placed strips of gauze over them and taped them over. I also put a bit of the Fugisen ointment on them as it had worked on the smaller drainage hole. Let us hope that this will also work on the skin infection. I was happy to note that it had not spread and that no new ones had erupted.  I gave thanks to the Lord for helping me get more confident with each passing day in these medical tasks that are completely new to me and which I am now being called upon to perform. 

     

Helping Dad with Paperwork:

    Dad and I spent the next hour working on his medical papers—the reports and bills had to be separated and tabulated and Dad, being the meticulous record-keeper he is, wanted to have all his Ts crossed and his Is dotted.  I really act as his eyes in such situations as his are very  weak. He is also finding it difficult to type letters—something he used to do until recently—on my first little portable Brother typewriter that I had bought forty years ago to allow me to carry on my work as a freelance journalist in Bombay before I had left for the US.  Dad had taken over that typewriter which had given him such sterling use over the years. Now it is he who dictates or drafts letters to me. I type them on my laptop and then get them printed out for him to sign and mail off. It is in such ways that Dad’s failing faculties (eyes, ears) are restricting the functions he had once taken for granted.  Still, I have to say that he is such an inspiration to me and I consider myself so blessed to have this precious time with him at this stage in both our lives and to be able to assist in small ways and large ones as Dad grows more dependant on other people.

      We have the most interesting and stimulating discussions on issues that are free-wheeling with regards to Indian politics, American politics, the church, the state, etc. It was a pleasure to discuss the controversy of the Kavanaugh confirmation with him as he looked to me for my input on the issue. Recently he asked me if I knew what ‘flashing’ was. I told him that it was the exposure of male genitals to women as a mode of sexual harassment. He was shocked and told me that there are regular reports in the Indian papers of ‘flashing’ being on the rise in India and of female retaliation which takes the form of slapping men. He lamented his ignorance to me and told me how inconceivable it was to him that men would behave in such a manner.

     I had to run off to my place at 11.00 am as the internet techies were supposed to come in today to find the ‘leads’ that would enable me to get fiber optic cable reception in my house. But although I waited for them until 12.30, there was no sign of them. It appears that the entire system was down in the neighborhood and they were unable to find any.

Thanksgiving Lunch at Dad’s:

     I had told Dad that since it was Thanksgiving, I would be ordering lunch from Bandra Gymkhana. I picked up the phone and called and, having consulted with Dad, ordered Chicken Makhanwala, Mixed Kadai Sabzi, Plain Naan, Garlic Naan and Butter Naan. I was told that the order would be ready in 20 minutes.  So I finished the blog post I was drafting, got dressed and left at 12.30 to pick up my food order.

     At Dad’s, we had soft drinks before dinner—just the three of us, of course. We did not say the prayer as Dad had other ideas. Dad and I move into Russel’s room to eat meals with him so that he has company and is not eating alone and so that he can be part of our conversation. Russel was sad that I would be leaving for Hyderabad early tomorrow morning as he will miss me; but he also realized that I have work that sometimes requires me to travel. 

     The thought of Hyderabad caused Russel to remember our own trip there, as a family, more than forty years ago.  Despite the vast span of time that had passed, he remembered clearly that none of us had taken kindly to the city’s chaotic traffic which even in that era had seemed maddening. He also completely stunned me by remembering that we had gone to a place where we were all instructed to touch a stone that carried the legend that whoever did so, would return someday to Hyderabad. He told me that as he did not like the city, he did not touch it! But he reminded me that I had done so—which was why I was returning to Hyderabad. I was simply floored. I did not remember this anecdote even vaguely. I asked Russel where this stone was to be found and he said that all he remembered was that we had climbed lots of steps to get to it. When I blanked out, he gave up on trying to remember. Dad and I then talked about some of the places we had seen and when we mentioned the Charminar (Four Towers), Russel turned to me and said, “Charminar! That was where the stone was—we climbed all those steps to get up there and that’s where we touched the stone.” You can just imagine how impressed I was by the phenomenal clarity of his memory. 

     After lunch, as Russel settled down for a nap and Dad settled down to read the Sunday papers, I left and returned home. Despite being organized and getting my packing done much in advance, I had not a moment to spare for the next few hours. I had to pack my medications, jewelry, chargers for my various devices. I had to download the pictures in my camera on to my laptop and clear my camera for my Hyderabad travels. I had to formulate an itinerary for my next intended destinations of tourism in India—Orissa and Calcutta—where I have been invited to give a paper at a conference on Anglo-Indians on December 21.  Since I am so close to Orissa where I have never been, my friend Nafisa and her husband Hosefa are going to join me in seeing the state on a whirlwind tour. Hence, I began reading my Lonely Planet India and getting an idea of what ought not to be missed. 
       I also stripped my bed and folded all the linen—top and bottom sheets, bedspread and pillow cases—to take to Dad’s to be laundered. Ditto with my towels. I would be away for four days—this would give Satyavati time to do my laundry and send the sheets off for ironing. I called the internet folks who hadn't shown and was told that the systems were down in Bandra and they could not find ‘leads’—hence the work could not be done.  It would have to wait until my return. Alden, my TV techie, also told me that he would be able to get the adapter I need to project from my laptop (Mac) to my TV by the time I got back. I stopped for a quick cup of tea and a custard apple and then I went in for a shower and shampoo. I also put away all the food in my fridge into my freezer and cleared out my garbage bin. It is amazing how many little tasks need to be completed when one is going to be away from home for even a few days. 

     Next, I kept my suitcase and backpack (with my Ipad) ready, dressed and took my huge and heavy bag of laundry to Dad’s. I spent the rest of the evening with him as my next appointment was only at 9.00 with Shahnaz who had invited me to join her for dinner at Otters’ Club where she is a member. Dad pulled out the Thanksgiving prayer and decided that would be the time to recite it as a family in front to the altar.  We thanked the Lord for his many blessings as a family and then got ready for dinner. I, of course, did not eat with them—a repetition of this afternoon’s menu—but it was great fun to chat together and talk again about our family memories of Hyderabad. By the end of the meal, Shahnaz called to tell me that she was on her way to pick me up by rickshaw from my Dad’s gate and my 9.00 pm, I said goodbye to them and was off. Shahnaz did pick me up at the gate and, five minutes later, we were at the Otter’s Club.

Dinner with Shahnaz at the Otter’s Club:

    Shahnaz was inaugurating the new 24 hour coffee shop that has just been introduced as an addition to the restaurants available at the club. Sadly, it was almost 9.30 pm by the time we sat down to order.  This meant that most of the Star special dishes of the day were no longer available and a lot of items on the a la carte menu were also finished for the day. 

     At the end of the day (pun unintended), we ordered freshly pressed fruit juices—a cocktail of pomegranate and sweet lime juice for her, pure pomegranate juice for me. They could not provide salads as they said that the lettuce had wilted. Salmon was all done for the day. There was no pasta available either. We ended up having Roasted Pumpkin Soup (that was very delicious), Spinach and Goat Cheese Risotto (which was very bland) and Crunchy Paprika Tiger Prawns which were superb. For dessert, we had a Raspberry Mousse shaped in the form of a bomb with a faint fruity taste and a center of raspberry jam which was okay. Not the best meal in the world but the ambience was good and it was great to be able to catch up with Shahnaz. 

     It was 11.00 pm when Shahnaz and I left the restaurant and walked the five minutes’ stroll to my studio from where I picked up my bags and discovered that I had forgotten to pick up my passport from Dad’s house. This meant that I would have to swing by his place to pick it up before driving on to the airport in the rickshaw that I hired to get me there. I called Dad to let him know I was coming—he was wide awake as he was watching a cricket match telecast.  Shahnaz also hailed a rickshaw and left for her home while I drove on to the airport after grabbing my passport.

Getting to the Airport and Boarding my Flight to Hyderabad:

     I reached Bombay International Airport a little after 12 midnight for my 3.00 am flight to Hyderabad—as you might have gathered, I meant to book my ticket online for 3.00 pm but ended up booking it for 3.00 am instead. Hence, my close-to-midnight ride to the airport. Jet Airways is also the only Indian airline that takes off for its domestic flights from the international airport. No matter. There were a lot of vehicles on the road although there were, mercifully, no traffic snarls. I was there at 12. 15 am and checked in right away. With no immigration to go through, I was at the gate just 20 minutes later. This left me an hour for sound sleep before boarding was announced at 2.00 am. 

     When boarding was announced, passengers bounded up to board a vehicle that would take us to the waiting aircraft. This is, of course, common practice, as we all know. But it usually takes no more than five minutes to get from the terminal in one of these vehicles to the aircraft.  This time it took, get this, half an hour! I kid you not! I was half inclined to believe that we would reach Hyderabad in that vehicle!

     It was a full flight, despite the unearthly hour, but it was also a very short flight. I managed to get another hour of sound sleep during it, despite the fact that I found time to eat a sausage roll and drink a bottle of water—which was the onboard snack served. 

Arrival at Hyderabad Airport:

     We arrived at Hyderabad far ahead of schedule—at 4.10 instead of 4.30 am. I had checked in my bag and had to wait for about 20 minutes to retrieve it. I received a call from Prof. Govind who was waiting for me in the Arrivals Lounge carrying a placard with my name on it. I made contact with him, then was whisked off in an Uber cab from the pickup point at the airport. About 45 minutes later, we were on the campus of Maulana Azad National Urdu University in the extreme quiet southern part of the city known as Gachibowli which is also called Tech City as it is the high-tech hub of Hyderabad. I checked in, my keys were given me to Suite 6 on the ground floor and I found myself seen into my lodgings for the next four nights. It was indeed an air-conditioned Suite with a living room, a bedroom and an en suite bathroom. The receptionist showed me how to use the air-conditioner, the TV and the geyser and then I simply sank on my bed to get some sleep. I slept like a log from 5.30 am until 8.00 am.

    It had been a very comfortable flight and arrival and I was none the worse for my red-eye flight from Maharashtra to the Deccan.

     I looked forward to a very successful conference and an opportunity to interact with Indian academics from a wide range of disciplines.

    Until tomorrow...