Sunday, June 30, 2019
Bombay
Another (Uneventful) Sunday Rolls Around
Namaste from Bombay!
On the last day of the month of June, I awoke in my flat at 6.30 am and began reading in bed as my book (The Cuckoo's Calling) is pretty compelling. That done, I downloaded The Times and flipped through the weekend edition, I also downloaded Waitrose magazine. Some of you might know that Waitrose is my favorite supermarket in the UK. It has a wonderful magazine that it brings out monthly and, over the years, I have amassed quite a collection of issues. About two years ago, when my stint of working and living in London ended, I switched to the online magazine--by registering on their website. Seriously...flipping through the pages is very much a high point of my month. I love the mouthwatering pictures and the wonderful interviews with prominent British chefs and food people. I have often tried out recipes in the magazine--but, of course, as I have not cooked for a whole year, that seems like history. I miss my kitchen and cooking so much now that I cannot wait to go back and resume my normal life. I have to admit that while the Fulbright lark has been fab (while it lasted), after meeting Llew in South America, a few weeks ago, I cannot wait to get back to him again. Needless to say, all of next month will be devoted to getting myself ready to depart--it is going to take a lot of thought and planning as I will be spending the last 15 days of my stay in Bombay at Dad's place.
I left for Mass at 8.40 am, after downing a cup of coffee and a slice of bread and butter, as I was the Lector for the Second Reading. Although it had rained heavily all night, it had stopped for a bit and I was able to get to church on foot with very little inconvenience. After Mass, I met my friend Maria who then introduced me to her husband Jeff and her daughter Manda whom I had met briefly in Washington DC where Maria lived until a couple of weeks ago. She has become repatriated to India now and is slowly settling down. I was a bit chuffed as a couple of folks stopped by to tell me that they really did enjoy my Reading. This did mean a lot to me as Indians are usually very sparing in their compliments! Giving them is not part of the culture!
I picked up a batata vada for Russel and took one for myself too! I was grateful to Maria who offered me a ride to my building in their car as they were headed to Borivli to visit relatives. Back home, I made myself breakfast (two slices of raisin-walnut bread with spreads and more coffee--it was very good) as I watched Couples Come Dine with Me. That done, I began blogging and when I finished, I ordered lunch: Formagio Fungi (Penne Pasta with a mushroom white sauce), Roast Chicken, Crispy Vegetables (all from Bandra Gym) and then went off to pick up the order when I was called and told it was ready. I went straight to Dad's where he, Russel and I had lunch. All the food was delicious. After lunch (papaya for dessert), I got back home and had a lovely nap and spent most of the afternoon reading my novel, napping and reading again.
At about 6.45 pm, I left my house and walked to Dad and since there was such an exciting match on TV (India was playing England in the cricket World Cup), the three of us sat watching (Rohit has Sunday afternoons and evenings off). At 8.00 pm, we had dinner (a repeat of the afternoon's fare plus Sonam's delicious momos) and I left.
Back home, I got myself a helping of chocolate ice-cream and sat to watch Rewrite, a movie that I had downloaded on my laptop through Hoopla. It is a rom-com set in Binghamton in Upstate New York, of all places, and stars a completely delightful Marisa Tomei (whom I have loved ever since her Oscar-winning performance in My Cousin Vinny--one of my favorite films of all time) and Hugh Grant, who although he has aged so poorly is still nice to look at! In-between, Dad called me to tell me that India had lost by 31 runs! So sad!
Sadly also, I could not keep my eyes open, fell asleep during the movie, woke up, brushed and flossed my teeth and changed for bed and got back to the movie and finished it while still awake this time. The most hilarious part of the movie is that Hugh Grant, who plays a university professor, has an affair with a student in his class, everyone in the department gets to know about it, he is threatened with dismissal, he says that (as a Hollywood writer and not really an academic) he did not know such a thing was against university policy!---AND NOTHING HAPPENS TO HIM! He keeps his job and he gets his gal! On which planet????? Hahahahahahahah!
I went to bed after a short video chat with Llew at about 1.30 am--we talked about India's poor showing in the match (they lost so dismally)!
It had been a lovely relaxing weekend during which, for the first time in ages, I actually did no work at all. In fact, I shall be spending most of the next month tying up a few threads (if the Monsoon permits) and packing up my belongings for return Stateside. I intend to do things in small morsels so that I am not overwhelmed at the very end.
It is going to be a very interesting month!
Until tomorrow...
Sunday, June 30, 2019
Negotiating with a Wheelchair and an Invitation to Saturday Night Dinner
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Bombay
Negotiating with a Wheelchair and an Invitation to Saturday Night Dinner
Namaste from Bombay!
It is comforting and heartening to know that one has reached the weekend and as I awoke at 6.30 am, I hoped mine would be a good one.
The morning went by, somewhat sluggishly, as I breakfasted on muesli and coffee and caught up with my regular morning laptop tasks: blogging, downloading The Times of London on my Ipad, checking through email correspondence and staying abreast with Twitter.
I had no real appointments today except with Dad who needed my help in getting some clerical work done. But since it was pouring copiously all morning, I called and asked him I could come later in the afternoon or when there was a lull in the rain. He was fine with that.
I did a lot of reading (The Cuckoo's Calling) and made a few phone calls to friends--Beulah, Iris, Marissa. Before I knew it, it was time for lunch and I ate the last of my meal delivery service: curried meatballs, stewed gourd, sambhar and coconut chutney with a chapatti and mango for dessert. While eating, I watched House Hunters International as they explored Calcutta in India and Amsterdam in the Netherlands.
I continued to read my novel until I felt sleepy and then took a short 20 minute nap. Once up, I decided to make my way to Dad's place. The rain had abated somewhat and I could easily pick my way along the 10-minute walk to his place.
When I reached Dad's, I realized that there is not enough space in Russel's bedroom to get his wheelchair through to the living room. We put our heads together to try and figure out how we could shift furniture around to create adequate passage. A little later, Dad and I sat down to work. I helped him decipher the new medications that have been prescribed for Russel and helped get rid of the ones that are no loner needed--they were only prescribed until his stapes were removed. He now has to take a great deal of supplements such as calcium, Vitamin D and Vitamin C to assist in the formation of callus or new bone that will heal his broken leg. Dad and I merely finished that and were moving on to other aspects of insurance claim forms when Dad had a visitor--a man who represents the company that provides his Aquaguard home water-filtering system (every Indian home has one to guard against water-borne diseases). The man wanted a testimony of the efficiency of the company so that they could place it on their website. This took Dad half an hour to accomplish during which time I tried to get Russel to sit in the wheelchair and get a feel of it.
When the man left, Dad and I returned to work but we did not get much done as Dad's linesman arrived to fix his phone. He was warmly welcomed, of course, as Dad has been handicapped for a week or longer. He worked on the problem and after almost an hour, he came in to check if the phone was in better shape. It seemed OK--this was a great weight off Dad's mind (and mine).
Soon, Dad needed to go for a shower before leaving for the Saturday evening Mass. I sat chatting with Russel and keeping him company when our friends Jon Ken and his wife Sonam arrived to visit Russel. They brought a whole lot of homemade momos--for Sonam is Tibetan and makes terrific ones.
It was not long before Jon Ken and Sonam got involved in a discussion on figuring out how to rearrange bedroom furniture to make room for the wheelchair. And it as not too long after this happened that we put our energy into clearing and moving things around to make the room wheel-chair friendly. When this was done, we found more ways and means to simplify the amount of furniture in the room. Dad left for church and a little later, Jon Ken and Sonam left--followed by my departure.
I raced home, had a shower and got dressed for my evening's appointment as I was invited to dinner by my friends Anil and Ninaz who live close by. I put together a small hostess gift for them: French pork pate with a pack of basil and olive oil crackers--and off I went.
It was about a half hour's walk to their gorgeous terrace flat but the rain had stopped and there is a delightful freshness and coolness in the air that I now love which makes me want to walk for miles. It is also practically the only exercise I get nowadays--so I am quite happy to walk whenever I get a chance and the pretty lanes of Bandra lend themselves so well to walking.
As always, I had a grand time with my friends. Ninaz, as usual, had a tray full of nibbles: Lays potato chips, pistachios, crackers with hummus and my pate--and Anil put a lovely cold gin and tonic into my hand. It was ultra-refreshing to sit with my friends and talk about the goings-on of the week as well as tell them about Llew and my travels in South America while they told me all about their recent travels in the UK and Portugal. Exchanging travel stories with friends is one of my great delights and I had a grand time as we laughed over our experiences. Dinner was partly cooked by Ninaz: a vegetable bake and a really fresh, colorful salad--and partly ordered from Khane Khaas: garlic-pepper chicken and tandoori fish (both fabulous). Dessert was a piece of chocolate.
It was about 11.30 pm when we decided to call it a night. As it continued to come down in sheets, Anil pulled out his car and the two of them gave me a ride home. I used the opportunity to buy myself a tub of Belgian Chocolate Ice-cream from Huber and Holly which is in the next building and when I did get home, I did nothing more than change, wash, brush and floss my teeth and go directly to bed.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Negotiating with a Wheelchair and an Invitation to Saturday Night Dinner
Namaste from Bombay!
It is comforting and heartening to know that one has reached the weekend and as I awoke at 6.30 am, I hoped mine would be a good one.
The morning went by, somewhat sluggishly, as I breakfasted on muesli and coffee and caught up with my regular morning laptop tasks: blogging, downloading The Times of London on my Ipad, checking through email correspondence and staying abreast with Twitter.
I had no real appointments today except with Dad who needed my help in getting some clerical work done. But since it was pouring copiously all morning, I called and asked him I could come later in the afternoon or when there was a lull in the rain. He was fine with that.
I did a lot of reading (The Cuckoo's Calling) and made a few phone calls to friends--Beulah, Iris, Marissa. Before I knew it, it was time for lunch and I ate the last of my meal delivery service: curried meatballs, stewed gourd, sambhar and coconut chutney with a chapatti and mango for dessert. While eating, I watched House Hunters International as they explored Calcutta in India and Amsterdam in the Netherlands.
I continued to read my novel until I felt sleepy and then took a short 20 minute nap. Once up, I decided to make my way to Dad's place. The rain had abated somewhat and I could easily pick my way along the 10-minute walk to his place.
When I reached Dad's, I realized that there is not enough space in Russel's bedroom to get his wheelchair through to the living room. We put our heads together to try and figure out how we could shift furniture around to create adequate passage. A little later, Dad and I sat down to work. I helped him decipher the new medications that have been prescribed for Russel and helped get rid of the ones that are no loner needed--they were only prescribed until his stapes were removed. He now has to take a great deal of supplements such as calcium, Vitamin D and Vitamin C to assist in the formation of callus or new bone that will heal his broken leg. Dad and I merely finished that and were moving on to other aspects of insurance claim forms when Dad had a visitor--a man who represents the company that provides his Aquaguard home water-filtering system (every Indian home has one to guard against water-borne diseases). The man wanted a testimony of the efficiency of the company so that they could place it on their website. This took Dad half an hour to accomplish during which time I tried to get Russel to sit in the wheelchair and get a feel of it.
When the man left, Dad and I returned to work but we did not get much done as Dad's linesman arrived to fix his phone. He was warmly welcomed, of course, as Dad has been handicapped for a week or longer. He worked on the problem and after almost an hour, he came in to check if the phone was in better shape. It seemed OK--this was a great weight off Dad's mind (and mine).
Soon, Dad needed to go for a shower before leaving for the Saturday evening Mass. I sat chatting with Russel and keeping him company when our friends Jon Ken and his wife Sonam arrived to visit Russel. They brought a whole lot of homemade momos--for Sonam is Tibetan and makes terrific ones.
It was not long before Jon Ken and Sonam got involved in a discussion on figuring out how to rearrange bedroom furniture to make room for the wheelchair. And it as not too long after this happened that we put our energy into clearing and moving things around to make the room wheel-chair friendly. When this was done, we found more ways and means to simplify the amount of furniture in the room. Dad left for church and a little later, Jon Ken and Sonam left--followed by my departure.
I raced home, had a shower and got dressed for my evening's appointment as I was invited to dinner by my friends Anil and Ninaz who live close by. I put together a small hostess gift for them: French pork pate with a pack of basil and olive oil crackers--and off I went.
It was about a half hour's walk to their gorgeous terrace flat but the rain had stopped and there is a delightful freshness and coolness in the air that I now love which makes me want to walk for miles. It is also practically the only exercise I get nowadays--so I am quite happy to walk whenever I get a chance and the pretty lanes of Bandra lend themselves so well to walking.
As always, I had a grand time with my friends. Ninaz, as usual, had a tray full of nibbles: Lays potato chips, pistachios, crackers with hummus and my pate--and Anil put a lovely cold gin and tonic into my hand. It was ultra-refreshing to sit with my friends and talk about the goings-on of the week as well as tell them about Llew and my travels in South America while they told me all about their recent travels in the UK and Portugal. Exchanging travel stories with friends is one of my great delights and I had a grand time as we laughed over our experiences. Dinner was partly cooked by Ninaz: a vegetable bake and a really fresh, colorful salad--and partly ordered from Khane Khaas: garlic-pepper chicken and tandoori fish (both fabulous). Dessert was a piece of chocolate.
It was about 11.30 pm when we decided to call it a night. As it continued to come down in sheets, Anil pulled out his car and the two of them gave me a ride home. I used the opportunity to buy myself a tub of Belgian Chocolate Ice-cream from Huber and Holly which is in the next building and when I did get home, I did nothing more than change, wash, brush and floss my teeth and go directly to bed.
Until tomorrow...
Saturday, June 29, 2019
Russel Goes Back to the Orthopedist and Gets a Wheelchair
Friday, June 28, 2019
Bombay
Russel Goes Back to the Orthopedist and Gets a Wheelchair
Namaste from Bombay!
Today was another exhausting day and at the end of it, I was ready to completely unwind.
I awoke at about 5.30 am and began reading (making good progress with my novel The Cuckoo's Calling), then blogged and read a bit of the Times of London to find out what is happening in the world. Then, I spent a long time on the phone with my friend Ashley as the rain beat down steadily and deafeningly. The monsoon always stages a comeback year after year in a showy display of sound and fury and everything is perfectly fine as long as one is warm and dry indoors--as I plan to stay for most of it!
At my laptop, I continued drafting my newsletter which is very long as it combines the goings-on of two months--as I did not send out a letter last month. When that was done, I attended to the collection of blurbs from writers around the world who have agreed to send them to me for the back jacket of my book. All of this took me until lunch time when I had one chapatti, two meatballs, some sambhar and some coconut chutney with fresh mango for dessert.
I then left and walked to Dad's place in the rain. I need to take a slightly longer route there now as the lane in which my building is located is low-lying and tends to flood in heavy rain--which is definitely what we are now having. We had to get Russel to Dr. Bhende's clinic at Dadar and the ambulance was expected to arrive at 2.00 pm for our 2.45/3.00 pm appointment. When I arrived at Dad's place. Dad and Russel's friend, Maurice, who is the sacristan of our church, was already there. I have solicited his help in getting to the clinic because once I return to the States, I want to be sure that there is someone else around to help Dad with these clinic visits. I wanted that someone to make a 'practice' run with me, while I am around, to get the hang of what the process is like.
As it turned out, a new driver and helper were appointed to bring the ambulance in today and they could not find Dad's place easily. Hence, they were late and instead of arriving at 2.00, they came at 2.25. Fortunately, we were not held up too much on our way to the clinic and we did make it in time--we were there by 3.00 pm. Russel had arrived to get his staples from his surgical incision removed and that was done very quickly. Later, the doctor arrived to take a look at it. He told us that it looks good and that he would do one more dressing after which his leg would be encased in a plaster cast. Russel was taken to the room in which the plaster cast was applied and was sent home. We have been told to bring him back at the end of July or early in August so that the plaster cast can be removed, the incision can be inspected (hopefully, it will have healed) and a new fibre glass plaster cast applied.
As Dad said, there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. It is a never-ending process of clinic visits and applications of treatments and all this because Russel is mentally handicapped, cannot take care of himself, does not know how to manipulate his own body which does not have the same capacity to heal itself that a normal human being's body can do. All this is very disheartening for Dad--although Russel's and my characteristic optimism is seeing us through these stages.
Dad was most disappointed because he had told Russel that after this visit, he would be able to walk about the house with his walker. However, knowing about Russel's mental limitations, the doctor has said that he cannot put load on his leg and, therefore, should keep walking to the minimum to allow the bone to set. I told Dad that there was a very easy solution to that--all we had to do was bring a wheelchair so that we could wheel Russel from room to room in his flat. That way his quality of life would be enhanced as he would not be confined to his bed alone. Dad thought it was a very good idea and so I resolved to go over to St. Peter's Church to get his a wheelchair just as soon as we reached home.
After payment had been made at the clinic, we took Russel back in the ambulance and, with everyone dying for a cup of tea or coffee (Dad and Russel had coffee at home), I raced back home to get myself a cup of decaff tea (as there is none in Dad's house). But before I sat to enjoy my tea, I called the person at St. Peter's Church about the wheelchair. As it turns out, his name is also Russel D'Souza! He runs, on a voluntary basis, a lending institution that gives out medical equipment to members of the community, eg. walkers, commodes, wheelchairs, etc. When people finish using them, they return them to the place. It is a fantastic service and because we have availed of it for years (initially for my Mum and now for Russel), we do realize what a great service Russel performs for the community. Russel told me he would be available from 7.00 to 8.00 pm--so I sat down to relax with a pot of tea and a cookie and some mindless TV until I had to leave again to pick up the wheelchair.
It was raining lightly as I walked through the lovely dripping lanes of Bandra to get to the church--but first, I stopped at Nature's Basket and picked up a few of the gourmet foods that I only get in this store: Danish blue cheese, Breton olive oil and basil flavored crackers and a fabulous loaf of whole wheat sourdough walnut raisin bread.
Then I walked quickly to the church and found Russel at his post. By this time, to my ill-luck, it started pouring heavily, but I somehow managed to get to the place. Russel had a suitable wheelchair and we went through the formalities (I had to sign out for it and produce Dad's national ID card) and then the wheelchair was mine.
But then came the fun of trying to find a rickshaw! It was simply bucketing down by then and Russel told me to try to find a rickshaw and bring it inside the church compound to his place. I went out on the road trying to find one when a rickshaw stopped right in front of me. A female passenger asked me if I had change for Rs. 500. I said I had none. She then tried to stop other passers-by but no one had change to give her! Finally, she told me to hop in with her, she would take the driver to a shop, get change, disengage the driver so that I could then hire his rick! And since I had no choice and there was no other rickshaw in sight, I did just that! She did find a shop that gave her change and she did disengage the driver at the same place to which I was headed--St. Peter's Church compound!
And that was how I managed to get the wheelchair into the rickshaw. The nice rickshaw driver gave me a hand and in the driving rain, we got to Dad's place where Dad's building watchman then gave me a hand and helped me get it up Dad's few steps. I had kept the rickshaw waiting--so I simply told Dad I would return tomorrow to let him know how to open it up and close it again.
I raced back into the rickshaw and was home in ten minutes, thanks to my super co-operative rickshaw driver. Back home, I jumped in for a lovely hot shower to wash the dirt of the road off my feet and to wash off the stress and exhaustion of a very eventful day.
I helped myself to the last of my pasta with the last of my Italian Bake and ate it with a mango as I watched The Wife--which later, Llew told me was one of the Oscar-nominated films of this year. It was very interesting as it dealt with the Nobel Prize for Literature and the writer who received it. But the nuances of his disturbed family life were examined in the film which, finally left me pretty dissatisfied as a lot of questions were left unanswered. Anyway, being that it was set in Stockholm in Sweden, took us into the workings of the Nobel Committee and the formalities associated with the event that takes place in a grand hall in Sweden (that Llew and I had visited on our Baltic Sea cruise stop in Stockholm), I found it very interesting.
I went to bed at about 10.45 pm after a really significant and deeply productive family day.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Russel Goes Back to the Orthopedist and Gets a Wheelchair
Namaste from Bombay!
Today was another exhausting day and at the end of it, I was ready to completely unwind.
I awoke at about 5.30 am and began reading (making good progress with my novel The Cuckoo's Calling), then blogged and read a bit of the Times of London to find out what is happening in the world. Then, I spent a long time on the phone with my friend Ashley as the rain beat down steadily and deafeningly. The monsoon always stages a comeback year after year in a showy display of sound and fury and everything is perfectly fine as long as one is warm and dry indoors--as I plan to stay for most of it!
At my laptop, I continued drafting my newsletter which is very long as it combines the goings-on of two months--as I did not send out a letter last month. When that was done, I attended to the collection of blurbs from writers around the world who have agreed to send them to me for the back jacket of my book. All of this took me until lunch time when I had one chapatti, two meatballs, some sambhar and some coconut chutney with fresh mango for dessert.
I then left and walked to Dad's place in the rain. I need to take a slightly longer route there now as the lane in which my building is located is low-lying and tends to flood in heavy rain--which is definitely what we are now having. We had to get Russel to Dr. Bhende's clinic at Dadar and the ambulance was expected to arrive at 2.00 pm for our 2.45/3.00 pm appointment. When I arrived at Dad's place. Dad and Russel's friend, Maurice, who is the sacristan of our church, was already there. I have solicited his help in getting to the clinic because once I return to the States, I want to be sure that there is someone else around to help Dad with these clinic visits. I wanted that someone to make a 'practice' run with me, while I am around, to get the hang of what the process is like.
As it turned out, a new driver and helper were appointed to bring the ambulance in today and they could not find Dad's place easily. Hence, they were late and instead of arriving at 2.00, they came at 2.25. Fortunately, we were not held up too much on our way to the clinic and we did make it in time--we were there by 3.00 pm. Russel had arrived to get his staples from his surgical incision removed and that was done very quickly. Later, the doctor arrived to take a look at it. He told us that it looks good and that he would do one more dressing after which his leg would be encased in a plaster cast. Russel was taken to the room in which the plaster cast was applied and was sent home. We have been told to bring him back at the end of July or early in August so that the plaster cast can be removed, the incision can be inspected (hopefully, it will have healed) and a new fibre glass plaster cast applied.
As Dad said, there seems to be no light at the end of the tunnel. It is a never-ending process of clinic visits and applications of treatments and all this because Russel is mentally handicapped, cannot take care of himself, does not know how to manipulate his own body which does not have the same capacity to heal itself that a normal human being's body can do. All this is very disheartening for Dad--although Russel's and my characteristic optimism is seeing us through these stages.
Dad was most disappointed because he had told Russel that after this visit, he would be able to walk about the house with his walker. However, knowing about Russel's mental limitations, the doctor has said that he cannot put load on his leg and, therefore, should keep walking to the minimum to allow the bone to set. I told Dad that there was a very easy solution to that--all we had to do was bring a wheelchair so that we could wheel Russel from room to room in his flat. That way his quality of life would be enhanced as he would not be confined to his bed alone. Dad thought it was a very good idea and so I resolved to go over to St. Peter's Church to get his a wheelchair just as soon as we reached home.
After payment had been made at the clinic, we took Russel back in the ambulance and, with everyone dying for a cup of tea or coffee (Dad and Russel had coffee at home), I raced back home to get myself a cup of decaff tea (as there is none in Dad's house). But before I sat to enjoy my tea, I called the person at St. Peter's Church about the wheelchair. As it turns out, his name is also Russel D'Souza! He runs, on a voluntary basis, a lending institution that gives out medical equipment to members of the community, eg. walkers, commodes, wheelchairs, etc. When people finish using them, they return them to the place. It is a fantastic service and because we have availed of it for years (initially for my Mum and now for Russel), we do realize what a great service Russel performs for the community. Russel told me he would be available from 7.00 to 8.00 pm--so I sat down to relax with a pot of tea and a cookie and some mindless TV until I had to leave again to pick up the wheelchair.
It was raining lightly as I walked through the lovely dripping lanes of Bandra to get to the church--but first, I stopped at Nature's Basket and picked up a few of the gourmet foods that I only get in this store: Danish blue cheese, Breton olive oil and basil flavored crackers and a fabulous loaf of whole wheat sourdough walnut raisin bread.
Then I walked quickly to the church and found Russel at his post. By this time, to my ill-luck, it started pouring heavily, but I somehow managed to get to the place. Russel had a suitable wheelchair and we went through the formalities (I had to sign out for it and produce Dad's national ID card) and then the wheelchair was mine.
But then came the fun of trying to find a rickshaw! It was simply bucketing down by then and Russel told me to try to find a rickshaw and bring it inside the church compound to his place. I went out on the road trying to find one when a rickshaw stopped right in front of me. A female passenger asked me if I had change for Rs. 500. I said I had none. She then tried to stop other passers-by but no one had change to give her! Finally, she told me to hop in with her, she would take the driver to a shop, get change, disengage the driver so that I could then hire his rick! And since I had no choice and there was no other rickshaw in sight, I did just that! She did find a shop that gave her change and she did disengage the driver at the same place to which I was headed--St. Peter's Church compound!
And that was how I managed to get the wheelchair into the rickshaw. The nice rickshaw driver gave me a hand and in the driving rain, we got to Dad's place where Dad's building watchman then gave me a hand and helped me get it up Dad's few steps. I had kept the rickshaw waiting--so I simply told Dad I would return tomorrow to let him know how to open it up and close it again.
I raced back into the rickshaw and was home in ten minutes, thanks to my super co-operative rickshaw driver. Back home, I jumped in for a lovely hot shower to wash the dirt of the road off my feet and to wash off the stress and exhaustion of a very eventful day.
I helped myself to the last of my pasta with the last of my Italian Bake and ate it with a mango as I watched The Wife--which later, Llew told me was one of the Oscar-nominated films of this year. It was very interesting as it dealt with the Nobel Prize for Literature and the writer who received it. But the nuances of his disturbed family life were examined in the film which, finally left me pretty dissatisfied as a lot of questions were left unanswered. Anyway, being that it was set in Stockholm in Sweden, took us into the workings of the Nobel Committee and the formalities associated with the event that takes place in a grand hall in Sweden (that Llew and I had visited on our Baltic Sea cruise stop in Stockholm), I found it very interesting.
I went to bed at about 10.45 pm after a really significant and deeply productive family day.
Until tomorrow...
Thursday, June 27, 2019
A Terrible Morning Rescued by a Nice Afternoon and Quiet Evening
Thursday, June 27, 2019
Bombay
A Terrible Morning Rescued by a Nice Afternoon and Quiet Evening
Namaste from Bombay!
So today was a truly mixed bag. It was the sort of day that you don't really want to remember but which keeps replaying in your mind with such insistence as to leave you sleepless. I am hoping that by recounting it here, I will achieve catharsis and get the worst aspects of it out of my mind.
I was up, as usual, a tad too early again--about 4. 30 am. Attempts to try and get back to sleep did not work, so I just gave up, got up and got on with my day.
Morning To-Dos done (blogging, reading, etc.) I had my breakfast of muesli and coffee and set off, as planned, for Dad's place. I was supposed to go with him to the telephone company to register a complaint in person about his landline which, for the past one week, has been giving trouble--a really loud static noise when he dials or receives calls that makes it impossible for him to hear the other person on the line or carry out a conversation. Several calls to the phone company to register the complaint have not worked and he is at the end of his tether.
In past years, he told me, he would go over personally to the phone office, meet the linesmen where they gather in the morning to receive their assignments for the day and would often actually bring the linesman over to his place to get the job done. Now, he says, he has lost the heart for such enterprise.When I offered to go with him, he agreed that we should meet at his place at 10.00 am and set out.
So I left my studio and was walking towards Dad's house, when the first incident that shook up my day occurred. I was strolling along, quite mindlessly, when I noticed a middle-aged Catholic couple walking across the street a few paces ahead of me. As I needed to get to the other side, I crossed the street and became aware, very vaguely, that the women's lips were moving and that she was saying something, to the man walking besides her. I did not hear a word she said and assumed that they were chatting, in normal fashion, the way normal human beings do.
Next thing I know, the man turned his head, saw me, caught my eye and then before I quite figured out what was happening, took the umbrella that he was carrying and gave the woman two really hard whacks with it on her upper arm and yelled at her, saying, "What do you mean by shouting at me, on the road, in front of other people?" I was so shocked as I had not even been aware that they were in the midst of a quarrel as the woman had said, whatever she said to him, so softly.
When I did gather my wits about me, I turned to him and said, "Stop hitting her. Are you crazy?" He then turned upon me, yelled at me and said, "You mind your own f-ing business. Don't interfere." And to my shock, the woman too turned towards me, and said, very softly, "Please don't say anything. Just walk on."
Of course, I was too riled up by then and I told the man to have some respect and to be a gentleman. This then really set him off and he began with the verbal abuse. He called me an f-ing this and an f-ing that and he would not stop. At this, I threatened to call the police (although, to be honest, I had no idea what number to dial for the police in an emergency, and I must find out soon). He defied me to go ahead. All the while, we kept walking on the road with the woman completely subdued and not responding at all. It was clear that she was used to being cowed down by this violent bully and had lost the spirit to retaliate or defend herself in any way. At the bend in the road, the couple, who were still walking a few paces in front of me as the man kept up the steady abuse, turned the corner as I walked through the gate into Dad's driveway. No, there were not a lot of other people on the road at this time so there were no eye-witnesses to this incident of domestic abuse except myself.
Needless to say, I was shaking and could not bring myself to even tell Dad what had happened as I was afraid of how he would react to the incident. A few minutes later, I was ready to leave to run Dad's errand with him--he was all dressed and waiting for me to arrive.
My mind was completely occupied by the terrible incident into which I had been dragged and I was shaking both inside and out by the nastiest experience I have had since coming to live in Bombay. In the rickshaw with Dad to the telephone office, I could barely speak.
We met a Mr. Naik at the office who turned out to be a very nice man. He listened to Dad's complaint and assured us that he would send the linesman to Dad's place as soon as he turned up. It was almost 10.30am by then and not a single linesman had showed up for work! I now understand why most people have switched from MTNL--a government company--to the private multi-national ones and why I was warned, when I first arrived here in Bombay, during my Orientation at the USEFI, to get a phone plan with any company other than MTNL. Poor Dad! Taking Mr. Naik at his word (he actually gave us his mobile number and told us to call him if we had any more problems), we left. I have to say that Mr Naik was really nice and treated us really well and was far more personable than I had expected.
Back in a rick home to Dad's where I intended to spend about a half hour before I left for my afternoon's appointment, I found the door to Dad's flat open. Hence, I walked right into Russel's room only to find that Rohit, Dad's Man Friday, was lying across Dad's bed! Needless to say, he straightened up guiltily as soon as he saw me, but it was too late. I pulled him up immediately and told him that this sort of behavior would not do. I told him that Dad would see red if he knew what I had just seen. I was wondering whether or not I should report it to Dad when in walked Dad to find out what the commotion was about. Well, I had no choice but to tell Dad. It was only at this stage that Russel piped in and told us (for the first time), that every evening, when Dad and I go off to Mass, Rohit helps himself to a pillow and sleeps on Dad's bed!
Okay, that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Dad, predictably, saw red and told him to leave the house immediately as he was not interested in keeping someone in the house that he could not trust. For his part, Rohit refused to budge because apparently he has no where else to go. You can just imagine what a situation we were in. Ultimately, half an hour later, after Rohit had apologized and assured us that we would have no reason to find fault with him, and we gave him fair warning-- Three strikes and he was out for Dad had another altercation with him while I was in South America a few weeks ago--the situation was resolved. Clearly, Dad does not have the mental energy to go through the process of hiring and training someone else and although Rohit is not the ideal employee, Dad is simply helpless in terms of replacing him.
I had to leave about 45 minutes later and since I was running late for my 12 noon Mass, I hailed a cab to take me to my next appointment. But, of course, the entire showdown left a very bad taste in my mouth and I kept hoping that after two horrid episodes, I would not have to encounter one more.
My next appointment was at St. Michael's Church in Mahim where the Feast of Our Mother of Perpetual Sucour was being celebrated with Mass and the Novena. Now, as all of you know, I have been a faithful devotee of Our Mother ever since I was eighteen years old--a devotion that was passed on to me by my Mum who was also a faithful devotee. My Mum and I used to go together to the Novena in Mahim, when I was a teenager and prior to that, my entire family used to go to the shrine every Wednesday when I was growing up in Bombay Central. In fact, it was Dad who initiated the Novena at our local church and who has conducted it faithfully for 15 years--he only gave up about a month ago when he passed on the baton as his eyesight is now so bad. So when I got to know that the Feast was today, I had made up my mind to brave the crowds and get there for one of the masses.
As t turned out, my friend Marianel told me that she would be attending the 12 noon Mass after which she would be going over to her sister's place for lunch--and she invited me to accompany her. Now I know her sister as Bulu (her pet name) for years and I was happy to accept the invitation. So, having reached the church early (by 11.35 am for the 12 noon Mass), I actually managed to find a seat right in the front and felt very pleased with myself. I had no idea where Marianel was sitting but we had made plans to meet after the service at Fatima Cold Storage which was a few meters outside the church.
The Mass went well and was followed by the Novena which included a very nice sermon. The priest was a good preacher and fired by the zeal of thousands of believers all around me, I was deeply pleased that I had made the short trip to Mahim to get there. On cue, Marianel and I connected, as planned, at Fatima, and walked in really humid heat to her sister's place about fifteen minutes away (I'd have made it in five minutes, but Marianel broke her ankle, a few months ago, and walks with the speed of a geriatric snail). Anyway...
We had a lovely afternoon at her sister's place where a number of cousins and their children were invited. Bulu has one of those rarest of things in Bombay--a cottage. She actually lives in a small two-storey bungalow called Sal House which has a tiny but perfectly landscaped garden. When we did eventually reach the place, we sank down in the air-conditioned living room and, thankfully, I had an ice-cold gin and tonic placed in my hand which I gratefully accepted. There was a delicious range of nibbles that kept us going until we were served lunch. It was a most delectable meal of Thai Green Chicken Curry, Vegetable Pullao, Pickled Pork (served with sannas and neer dosas), meat chilli fry with green peppers, fuggias (East Indian dough balls) and a cucumber salad. Although Bulu did most of the cooking, Marianel had a big hand in bringing it all together as she is an ace chef. For desert, there was a mango mousse and caramel custard--both lovely and very refreshing.
My lunch gave me a chance to finally meet members of Bulu's husband Conrad's family. His mother Lina Saldanha used to be my fifth grade Science teacher and a stricter, less terrifying teacher would be hard to find. To my horrible luck, she became my class teacher in the sixth grade. Although I have to admit that I have never forgotten the Science I learned under her, she was simply too frightful a person for me to have any warm feelings towards--and I have realized, over the years, that I was not alone in my impressions of her. She was always very proud of her three sons, however, Cedric, Conrad and Clarence, and we never heard the end of them when she was our teacher. Of course, she doted on them and they have all turned out well and, somewhere in her grave, I bet she is cheering at their success. I met Clarence and Conrad yesterday and we spent a long while reminiscing about my school days, people we knew in common in Byculla and Mazagoan so many decades ago, and about how all those areas have changed as the demographics have shifted.
It was past 4.30 when I rose to leave. I called an Uber that took me home directly after what had been a very nice afternoon in the company of people who knew each other well. I tried to take a nap but it was too late in the afternoon. Instead I sat reading my book The Cuckoo's Calling (which I am very much enjoying). I called Dad to find out if the linesman had been--and what do you think? No one had showed up and Dad could barely hear me as the problem persisted. I then called Mr. Naik to let him know that he had let us down. He told me that he had instructed the linesman to go to Dad's and he will definitely be there tomorrow--and so the saga continues!
I used my free evening at home to catch up on calls to my cousins. In fact, I thought I would go over and visit my cousin Linnet, but she was just going out shopping and told me she would not be home. A phone conversation followed. A little later, I called my cousin Bonnie and had a very long phone conversation with her too. Before I knew it, it was late evening and while I continued reading, I started to think about having something light for dinner. A small piece of Italian Bake given by Selda, one of Dad's neighbors, and a cup of soup with crackers saw me through dinner as I enjoyed the last of my fantastic Rajapuri mangoes for dessert. I am back to watching House Hunters International after a very long time and saw two episodes--one set in Puerto Vallarta in Mexico, the other in Samara in Costa Rica.
Some more reading later, I turned off the light and went to bed but found the terrible scenes of the morning replaying like a stuck record in my mind and making it really hard for me to get to sleep.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
A Terrible Morning Rescued by a Nice Afternoon and Quiet Evening
Namaste from Bombay!
So today was a truly mixed bag. It was the sort of day that you don't really want to remember but which keeps replaying in your mind with such insistence as to leave you sleepless. I am hoping that by recounting it here, I will achieve catharsis and get the worst aspects of it out of my mind.
I was up, as usual, a tad too early again--about 4. 30 am. Attempts to try and get back to sleep did not work, so I just gave up, got up and got on with my day.
Morning To-Dos done (blogging, reading, etc.) I had my breakfast of muesli and coffee and set off, as planned, for Dad's place. I was supposed to go with him to the telephone company to register a complaint in person about his landline which, for the past one week, has been giving trouble--a really loud static noise when he dials or receives calls that makes it impossible for him to hear the other person on the line or carry out a conversation. Several calls to the phone company to register the complaint have not worked and he is at the end of his tether.
In past years, he told me, he would go over personally to the phone office, meet the linesmen where they gather in the morning to receive their assignments for the day and would often actually bring the linesman over to his place to get the job done. Now, he says, he has lost the heart for such enterprise.When I offered to go with him, he agreed that we should meet at his place at 10.00 am and set out.
So I left my studio and was walking towards Dad's house, when the first incident that shook up my day occurred. I was strolling along, quite mindlessly, when I noticed a middle-aged Catholic couple walking across the street a few paces ahead of me. As I needed to get to the other side, I crossed the street and became aware, very vaguely, that the women's lips were moving and that she was saying something, to the man walking besides her. I did not hear a word she said and assumed that they were chatting, in normal fashion, the way normal human beings do.
Next thing I know, the man turned his head, saw me, caught my eye and then before I quite figured out what was happening, took the umbrella that he was carrying and gave the woman two really hard whacks with it on her upper arm and yelled at her, saying, "What do you mean by shouting at me, on the road, in front of other people?" I was so shocked as I had not even been aware that they were in the midst of a quarrel as the woman had said, whatever she said to him, so softly.
When I did gather my wits about me, I turned to him and said, "Stop hitting her. Are you crazy?" He then turned upon me, yelled at me and said, "You mind your own f-ing business. Don't interfere." And to my shock, the woman too turned towards me, and said, very softly, "Please don't say anything. Just walk on."
Of course, I was too riled up by then and I told the man to have some respect and to be a gentleman. This then really set him off and he began with the verbal abuse. He called me an f-ing this and an f-ing that and he would not stop. At this, I threatened to call the police (although, to be honest, I had no idea what number to dial for the police in an emergency, and I must find out soon). He defied me to go ahead. All the while, we kept walking on the road with the woman completely subdued and not responding at all. It was clear that she was used to being cowed down by this violent bully and had lost the spirit to retaliate or defend herself in any way. At the bend in the road, the couple, who were still walking a few paces in front of me as the man kept up the steady abuse, turned the corner as I walked through the gate into Dad's driveway. No, there were not a lot of other people on the road at this time so there were no eye-witnesses to this incident of domestic abuse except myself.
Needless to say, I was shaking and could not bring myself to even tell Dad what had happened as I was afraid of how he would react to the incident. A few minutes later, I was ready to leave to run Dad's errand with him--he was all dressed and waiting for me to arrive.
My mind was completely occupied by the terrible incident into which I had been dragged and I was shaking both inside and out by the nastiest experience I have had since coming to live in Bombay. In the rickshaw with Dad to the telephone office, I could barely speak.
We met a Mr. Naik at the office who turned out to be a very nice man. He listened to Dad's complaint and assured us that he would send the linesman to Dad's place as soon as he turned up. It was almost 10.30am by then and not a single linesman had showed up for work! I now understand why most people have switched from MTNL--a government company--to the private multi-national ones and why I was warned, when I first arrived here in Bombay, during my Orientation at the USEFI, to get a phone plan with any company other than MTNL. Poor Dad! Taking Mr. Naik at his word (he actually gave us his mobile number and told us to call him if we had any more problems), we left. I have to say that Mr Naik was really nice and treated us really well and was far more personable than I had expected.
Back in a rick home to Dad's where I intended to spend about a half hour before I left for my afternoon's appointment, I found the door to Dad's flat open. Hence, I walked right into Russel's room only to find that Rohit, Dad's Man Friday, was lying across Dad's bed! Needless to say, he straightened up guiltily as soon as he saw me, but it was too late. I pulled him up immediately and told him that this sort of behavior would not do. I told him that Dad would see red if he knew what I had just seen. I was wondering whether or not I should report it to Dad when in walked Dad to find out what the commotion was about. Well, I had no choice but to tell Dad. It was only at this stage that Russel piped in and told us (for the first time), that every evening, when Dad and I go off to Mass, Rohit helps himself to a pillow and sleeps on Dad's bed!
Okay, that was the last straw that broke the camel's back. Dad, predictably, saw red and told him to leave the house immediately as he was not interested in keeping someone in the house that he could not trust. For his part, Rohit refused to budge because apparently he has no where else to go. You can just imagine what a situation we were in. Ultimately, half an hour later, after Rohit had apologized and assured us that we would have no reason to find fault with him, and we gave him fair warning-- Three strikes and he was out for Dad had another altercation with him while I was in South America a few weeks ago--the situation was resolved. Clearly, Dad does not have the mental energy to go through the process of hiring and training someone else and although Rohit is not the ideal employee, Dad is simply helpless in terms of replacing him.
I had to leave about 45 minutes later and since I was running late for my 12 noon Mass, I hailed a cab to take me to my next appointment. But, of course, the entire showdown left a very bad taste in my mouth and I kept hoping that after two horrid episodes, I would not have to encounter one more.
My next appointment was at St. Michael's Church in Mahim where the Feast of Our Mother of Perpetual Sucour was being celebrated with Mass and the Novena. Now, as all of you know, I have been a faithful devotee of Our Mother ever since I was eighteen years old--a devotion that was passed on to me by my Mum who was also a faithful devotee. My Mum and I used to go together to the Novena in Mahim, when I was a teenager and prior to that, my entire family used to go to the shrine every Wednesday when I was growing up in Bombay Central. In fact, it was Dad who initiated the Novena at our local church and who has conducted it faithfully for 15 years--he only gave up about a month ago when he passed on the baton as his eyesight is now so bad. So when I got to know that the Feast was today, I had made up my mind to brave the crowds and get there for one of the masses.
As t turned out, my friend Marianel told me that she would be attending the 12 noon Mass after which she would be going over to her sister's place for lunch--and she invited me to accompany her. Now I know her sister as Bulu (her pet name) for years and I was happy to accept the invitation. So, having reached the church early (by 11.35 am for the 12 noon Mass), I actually managed to find a seat right in the front and felt very pleased with myself. I had no idea where Marianel was sitting but we had made plans to meet after the service at Fatima Cold Storage which was a few meters outside the church.
The Mass went well and was followed by the Novena which included a very nice sermon. The priest was a good preacher and fired by the zeal of thousands of believers all around me, I was deeply pleased that I had made the short trip to Mahim to get there. On cue, Marianel and I connected, as planned, at Fatima, and walked in really humid heat to her sister's place about fifteen minutes away (I'd have made it in five minutes, but Marianel broke her ankle, a few months ago, and walks with the speed of a geriatric snail). Anyway...
We had a lovely afternoon at her sister's place where a number of cousins and their children were invited. Bulu has one of those rarest of things in Bombay--a cottage. She actually lives in a small two-storey bungalow called Sal House which has a tiny but perfectly landscaped garden. When we did eventually reach the place, we sank down in the air-conditioned living room and, thankfully, I had an ice-cold gin and tonic placed in my hand which I gratefully accepted. There was a delicious range of nibbles that kept us going until we were served lunch. It was a most delectable meal of Thai Green Chicken Curry, Vegetable Pullao, Pickled Pork (served with sannas and neer dosas), meat chilli fry with green peppers, fuggias (East Indian dough balls) and a cucumber salad. Although Bulu did most of the cooking, Marianel had a big hand in bringing it all together as she is an ace chef. For desert, there was a mango mousse and caramel custard--both lovely and very refreshing.
My lunch gave me a chance to finally meet members of Bulu's husband Conrad's family. His mother Lina Saldanha used to be my fifth grade Science teacher and a stricter, less terrifying teacher would be hard to find. To my horrible luck, she became my class teacher in the sixth grade. Although I have to admit that I have never forgotten the Science I learned under her, she was simply too frightful a person for me to have any warm feelings towards--and I have realized, over the years, that I was not alone in my impressions of her. She was always very proud of her three sons, however, Cedric, Conrad and Clarence, and we never heard the end of them when she was our teacher. Of course, she doted on them and they have all turned out well and, somewhere in her grave, I bet she is cheering at their success. I met Clarence and Conrad yesterday and we spent a long while reminiscing about my school days, people we knew in common in Byculla and Mazagoan so many decades ago, and about how all those areas have changed as the demographics have shifted.
It was past 4.30 when I rose to leave. I called an Uber that took me home directly after what had been a very nice afternoon in the company of people who knew each other well. I tried to take a nap but it was too late in the afternoon. Instead I sat reading my book The Cuckoo's Calling (which I am very much enjoying). I called Dad to find out if the linesman had been--and what do you think? No one had showed up and Dad could barely hear me as the problem persisted. I then called Mr. Naik to let him know that he had let us down. He told me that he had instructed the linesman to go to Dad's and he will definitely be there tomorrow--and so the saga continues!
I used my free evening at home to catch up on calls to my cousins. In fact, I thought I would go over and visit my cousin Linnet, but she was just going out shopping and told me she would not be home. A phone conversation followed. A little later, I called my cousin Bonnie and had a very long phone conversation with her too. Before I knew it, it was late evening and while I continued reading, I started to think about having something light for dinner. A small piece of Italian Bake given by Selda, one of Dad's neighbors, and a cup of soup with crackers saw me through dinner as I enjoyed the last of my fantastic Rajapuri mangoes for dessert. I am back to watching House Hunters International after a very long time and saw two episodes--one set in Puerto Vallarta in Mexico, the other in Samara in Costa Rica.
Some more reading later, I turned off the light and went to bed but found the terrible scenes of the morning replaying like a stuck record in my mind and making it really hard for me to get to sleep.
Until tomorrow...
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
A Rainy Morning of Errands and An Afternoon Watching Oxford's Encaenia
Wednesday, June 26, 2019
Bombay
A Rainy Morning of Errands and An Afternoon Watching Oxford's Encaenia
Namaste from Bombay!
As if on cue, so as not to make local meteorologists feel like sorry sods, the heavens opened at exactly 5.00 am today to officially bring in Bombay's Monsoon of 2019. I know because I was awake at that unearthly hour. It seems that the showers we experienced, two weeks ago, were merely a throwback from a cyclone that hit the Gujarat coast. This is the real McCoy! This is the sort of weather that shall keep us cool and indoors (as much as we can help it) for the next four months. I listened to the downpour drumming on outside and I felt transported to my childhood when it had rained with such might, accompanied by thunderous claps and streaks of lightning and it was declared a holiday, the next day, much to our delight, as the colony in which I lived (Reserve Bank) flooded copiously with knee-deep water. Such lovely memories of the beloved city of my birth are associated with the Monsoons. I love Bombay!
Up, as I mentioned, at 5.00am, I did a fair bit of reading (The Cuckoo's Calling), drafted my blog post and downloaded the Times of London. I also had a phone chat with my friend Shahnaz, just back from Delhi where she attended her daughter's graduation from Ashoka University with a Bachelor's in the Humanities. I was hoping that she would have the time to fit in a phone interview with me (on her acting career in Bombay, two decades ago), but she is swamped.
It was on to breakfast then as I ate a chappati with mango jam and marmalade (I need to finish the stock pile of chapattis in my fridge!). While eating, I watched House Hunters International after a very long time and was transported to Lisbon, Portugal. I then did a bit of tidying up and noticing that the rain had subsided somewhat (although it kept up a steady drizzle), I decided to finish up a couple of pending errands I had to run for Dad.
So I called him and told him I was heading out into freshly rain-washed Bandra to pick up Russel's culture reports from Hinduja Hospital. I called first, of course, to confirm that they were ready and then I was off. It was painless and very quick as the reports were ready and waiting to be handed over to me by the super-efficient receptionist who mans the desk Once again, I was struck by the cool professionalism of this institution--long may it thrive! That task done, I got into a rick and headed to Dad's. I called to tell him to keep his Man Friday Rohit ready as I would be picking him up and taking him to the Police Station for registration.
However, Rohit is very busy in the mornings with his list of chores and he was not ready by the time I reached Dad's. I handed over the culture reports to Dad (all clear!) and chatted with him as Rohit got ready. I then called my photocopy man, Jay, and told him that we were heading to his shop. He suggested I whatsapp Rohit's documents to him--Rohit had received them from his folks in Chattisgarh from which state he hails.
Ten minutes later, we were heading to Jay's where the documents were duly printed out and kept ready for me. We found a rick and headed to Hill Road to the Bandra Police Station. It is customary to register newly-employed domestic helpers in Bombay now with the local police station as thefts, extortion, kidnapping and even murders are often known to be the doings of domestic help--who do the deed and then abscond to their native places never to be heard from or seen again, As a way of combating this kind of domestic crime, the Bombay Police have set up a Registry service. You bring the new hire to the police station where he/she is finger-printed and photographed. Copies of their national ID cards are made together with documents from the place that they claim is their home town (as so many of these folks come from the rural hinterland of India to the metropolitan cities seeking work). Their details are then entered into a computer and become part of the data base. God forbid there is a crime reported, their whereabouts are traced through their family members in their villages. Hence, utility bills and voter registration cards of their parents are considered valid documents for keeping on record. Rohit produced the electricity bill of his parents' home in Chattisgarh and his mother's voting card which has her home address on it.
Inspector Yadav at the Bandra Police station, who knows me by sight by now as I have been there three times already, inspected the documents, ascertained that there were all in order and assured me that they would be entered into the computer. It took all of five minutes and then we were off. We found a rick and I dropped Rohit back home to my Dad's place before I carried on in the same vehicle to my bank where I needed to deposit some money to swell my account balance. For the first time in ages, I noticed that there was practically no one at the counter--the rain kept all patrons at bay--and I managed to get my work done with no trouble at all.
I then walked out into the slight drizzle and got home for a nice hot shower. That done, I sat down to check my email and do some reading before it was time for lunch. I fixed myself a plate with meatball curry, stewed green gourd, sambhar and a chappati with some really wonderful Rajapuri mango for dessert.
By this time, I had my TV on to the You Tube station that live streams from the Martin School Webcam at Oxford University. I was aware that it was the day of the Encaenia (Graduation) Ceremony--a red-letter day on Oxford's calendar. In the days when Town and Gown co-existed compatibly together, a procession led by the University's Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Provost and other big wigs, wound its way through the streets (they often came along Broad Street) before entering the Sheldonian Theater where the graduation ceremony is held. I understand that things have changed and that Oxford City Council had some sort of row with the university which no longer allows roads to be closed and traffic stopped to make room for the pomp and pageantry. Nowadays, the procession starts from a college close to the Sheldonian and weaves its way through a few university lanes only. Hence, the crowds of people lining Broad Street that I had seen in the Inspector Morse episode entitled The Twilight of the Gods is a thing of the past--sadly!
All I could see (as my camera only provides views down Broad Street) was clumps of graduates, gowned either in all-black, black and pink or black and red gowns grow steadily after 10.00 am local time. Some were individually seen as they hurried in and out of the Weston Library--where I think the registration and ticket distribution for the ceremony took place. I spent a long while watching the growing spectacle of graduates, their mentors and professors swell in number outside the main gates of the Sheldonian Theater. At 11.30, they were allowed inside, in a orderly queue. Lucky tourists who still took the Hop On Hop Off bus tours today as they had the rare sight of newly-minted graduates take over the town. At exactly 1.00 pm, i.e. 90 minutes later, the graduates trooped out of the Sheldonian and disappeared down both sides of the Broad--no doubt off to a celebratory lunch somewhere. I felt absurdly pleased to be a part of this ceremony, albeit vicariously and albeit half a world away--but it was fun and it brought back for me so many happy memories of my days in that town over the last 35 years.
I took a short nap in-between and then began drafting my May-June newsletter which will be a joint one this time as I did not send out a letter at the end of May as Llew and I were traveling in South America. I had fun remembering our times together.
Then it was time for tea and I helped myself to the goodies Dad had given me yesterday--a chicken patty and a small piece of cheesecake with a pot of tea--they were both good and I felt fairly stuffed by the time I dressed and left my studio to go to Dad's. I visited with Russel for a bit and then then Dad and I left for the Novena and Mass.
Dad is having endless trouble with his landline where irritating and very loud static disturbance makes it almost impossible for him to carry out a conversation. He requested me to return to his place so that I could place yet another complaint with the phone service and tomorrow morning, we shall probably be going in person to catch hold of the linesmen before they disperse to do the various jobs that have been allotted to them.
I got home for my own dinner--I had a cup of pea and mint soup with crackers and some pasta and more mango for desert while I watched another wonderful episode of McCallum. It was about 10.30 pm when I went off to sleep.
Until tomorrow.
Bombay
A Rainy Morning of Errands and An Afternoon Watching Oxford's Encaenia
Namaste from Bombay!
As if on cue, so as not to make local meteorologists feel like sorry sods, the heavens opened at exactly 5.00 am today to officially bring in Bombay's Monsoon of 2019. I know because I was awake at that unearthly hour. It seems that the showers we experienced, two weeks ago, were merely a throwback from a cyclone that hit the Gujarat coast. This is the real McCoy! This is the sort of weather that shall keep us cool and indoors (as much as we can help it) for the next four months. I listened to the downpour drumming on outside and I felt transported to my childhood when it had rained with such might, accompanied by thunderous claps and streaks of lightning and it was declared a holiday, the next day, much to our delight, as the colony in which I lived (Reserve Bank) flooded copiously with knee-deep water. Such lovely memories of the beloved city of my birth are associated with the Monsoons. I love Bombay!
Up, as I mentioned, at 5.00am, I did a fair bit of reading (The Cuckoo's Calling), drafted my blog post and downloaded the Times of London. I also had a phone chat with my friend Shahnaz, just back from Delhi where she attended her daughter's graduation from Ashoka University with a Bachelor's in the Humanities. I was hoping that she would have the time to fit in a phone interview with me (on her acting career in Bombay, two decades ago), but she is swamped.
It was on to breakfast then as I ate a chappati with mango jam and marmalade (I need to finish the stock pile of chapattis in my fridge!). While eating, I watched House Hunters International after a very long time and was transported to Lisbon, Portugal. I then did a bit of tidying up and noticing that the rain had subsided somewhat (although it kept up a steady drizzle), I decided to finish up a couple of pending errands I had to run for Dad.
So I called him and told him I was heading out into freshly rain-washed Bandra to pick up Russel's culture reports from Hinduja Hospital. I called first, of course, to confirm that they were ready and then I was off. It was painless and very quick as the reports were ready and waiting to be handed over to me by the super-efficient receptionist who mans the desk Once again, I was struck by the cool professionalism of this institution--long may it thrive! That task done, I got into a rick and headed to Dad's. I called to tell him to keep his Man Friday Rohit ready as I would be picking him up and taking him to the Police Station for registration.
However, Rohit is very busy in the mornings with his list of chores and he was not ready by the time I reached Dad's. I handed over the culture reports to Dad (all clear!) and chatted with him as Rohit got ready. I then called my photocopy man, Jay, and told him that we were heading to his shop. He suggested I whatsapp Rohit's documents to him--Rohit had received them from his folks in Chattisgarh from which state he hails.
Ten minutes later, we were heading to Jay's where the documents were duly printed out and kept ready for me. We found a rick and headed to Hill Road to the Bandra Police Station. It is customary to register newly-employed domestic helpers in Bombay now with the local police station as thefts, extortion, kidnapping and even murders are often known to be the doings of domestic help--who do the deed and then abscond to their native places never to be heard from or seen again, As a way of combating this kind of domestic crime, the Bombay Police have set up a Registry service. You bring the new hire to the police station where he/she is finger-printed and photographed. Copies of their national ID cards are made together with documents from the place that they claim is their home town (as so many of these folks come from the rural hinterland of India to the metropolitan cities seeking work). Their details are then entered into a computer and become part of the data base. God forbid there is a crime reported, their whereabouts are traced through their family members in their villages. Hence, utility bills and voter registration cards of their parents are considered valid documents for keeping on record. Rohit produced the electricity bill of his parents' home in Chattisgarh and his mother's voting card which has her home address on it.
Inspector Yadav at the Bandra Police station, who knows me by sight by now as I have been there three times already, inspected the documents, ascertained that there were all in order and assured me that they would be entered into the computer. It took all of five minutes and then we were off. We found a rick and I dropped Rohit back home to my Dad's place before I carried on in the same vehicle to my bank where I needed to deposit some money to swell my account balance. For the first time in ages, I noticed that there was practically no one at the counter--the rain kept all patrons at bay--and I managed to get my work done with no trouble at all.
I then walked out into the slight drizzle and got home for a nice hot shower. That done, I sat down to check my email and do some reading before it was time for lunch. I fixed myself a plate with meatball curry, stewed green gourd, sambhar and a chappati with some really wonderful Rajapuri mango for dessert.
By this time, I had my TV on to the You Tube station that live streams from the Martin School Webcam at Oxford University. I was aware that it was the day of the Encaenia (Graduation) Ceremony--a red-letter day on Oxford's calendar. In the days when Town and Gown co-existed compatibly together, a procession led by the University's Chancellor, Vice-Chancellor, Provost and other big wigs, wound its way through the streets (they often came along Broad Street) before entering the Sheldonian Theater where the graduation ceremony is held. I understand that things have changed and that Oxford City Council had some sort of row with the university which no longer allows roads to be closed and traffic stopped to make room for the pomp and pageantry. Nowadays, the procession starts from a college close to the Sheldonian and weaves its way through a few university lanes only. Hence, the crowds of people lining Broad Street that I had seen in the Inspector Morse episode entitled The Twilight of the Gods is a thing of the past--sadly!
All I could see (as my camera only provides views down Broad Street) was clumps of graduates, gowned either in all-black, black and pink or black and red gowns grow steadily after 10.00 am local time. Some were individually seen as they hurried in and out of the Weston Library--where I think the registration and ticket distribution for the ceremony took place. I spent a long while watching the growing spectacle of graduates, their mentors and professors swell in number outside the main gates of the Sheldonian Theater. At 11.30, they were allowed inside, in a orderly queue. Lucky tourists who still took the Hop On Hop Off bus tours today as they had the rare sight of newly-minted graduates take over the town. At exactly 1.00 pm, i.e. 90 minutes later, the graduates trooped out of the Sheldonian and disappeared down both sides of the Broad--no doubt off to a celebratory lunch somewhere. I felt absurdly pleased to be a part of this ceremony, albeit vicariously and albeit half a world away--but it was fun and it brought back for me so many happy memories of my days in that town over the last 35 years.
I took a short nap in-between and then began drafting my May-June newsletter which will be a joint one this time as I did not send out a letter at the end of May as Llew and I were traveling in South America. I had fun remembering our times together.
Then it was time for tea and I helped myself to the goodies Dad had given me yesterday--a chicken patty and a small piece of cheesecake with a pot of tea--they were both good and I felt fairly stuffed by the time I dressed and left my studio to go to Dad's. I visited with Russel for a bit and then then Dad and I left for the Novena and Mass.
Dad is having endless trouble with his landline where irritating and very loud static disturbance makes it almost impossible for him to carry out a conversation. He requested me to return to his place so that I could place yet another complaint with the phone service and tomorrow morning, we shall probably be going in person to catch hold of the linesmen before they disperse to do the various jobs that have been allotted to them.
I got home for my own dinner--I had a cup of pea and mint soup with crackers and some pasta and more mango for desert while I watched another wonderful episode of McCallum. It was about 10.30 pm when I went off to sleep.
Until tomorrow.
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Last Backlog Interview Transcribed and First Phone Interview Done
Tuesday, June 25, 2019
Bombay
Last Backlog Interview Transcribed and First Phone Interview Done
Namaste from Bombay!
I am back in the swing and working like I used to--before our Latin-American vacation and Russel's second bout of hospitalization came in the way of my momentum. Anyway, my day was fruitful and productive and still left me enough time to stare at my TV screen through my Martin School Webcam in Oxford to watch preparations outside the Sheldonian Theater for tomorrow's Encaenia ceremony (more about it below).
So I was up at 6.30 and raced through my morning set of To-Dos: Twitter, email, reading newspaper and book, drafting blog post. I have lost interest in Dan Brown's Origins and decided to look for a more compelling novel. I downloaded The Cuckoo's Calling by Robert Galbraith which sounded like a wonderful murder mystery and only discovered, after I'd done so, that the author is actually JK Rowling who wrote the book under a pseudonym and is currently suing her lawyers for disclosing her identity--or something like that. I have started it and it is holding my interest--well begun is half done, as my late Mum used to say...
Then it was time for breakfast and I grated an apple and added it to my cereal bowl with chia seeds and honey and almond milk and yoghurt and a nice helping of the Fruit, Nuts and Seeds Muesli that I bought from Sainsburys in London--and I was instantly transported to my flat in Holborn when I ate this breakfast with relish almost every day, ten years ago. So come to think of it, I have been eating muesli with honey yoghurt for at least a decade! I am nothing if not a creature of habit!
It was then that I sat down to transcribe the last of the interviews I had done prior to my computer crash. Slowly but surely, over the past couple of months, I have painfully re-transcribed the interviews I lost when I erased my Documents in error. All forty of them have been re-done now. I saved the toughest one for last--an interview with the overly-voluble Associate Director of the Symphony Orchestra of India, Zane, who read Medieval History at Oxford and lets slips dates effortlessly off his tongue while pontificating on contemporary Indo-Parsi relations! Anyway, I finished transcribing the interview by 12. 30 and had about a half hour to get myself a snack because I had a phone interview scheduled for 1.00 pm with my cousin's daughter Tanya who sings with the Paranjoti Choir.
A cup of chicken leek soup with two crackers spread with Amul's incredibly good herb and garlic butter did the trick and provided the snack fuel I needed before going on to my next assignment. Meanwhile, I flipped through You Tube and found a most heartwarming aerial tour of Oxford that did two huge things for me: it took me to one of my favorite places in the world and it showed it to me from a height of about 8,000-12,000 feet: everyone knows by now that I love to look at our world from a lofty perspective when I am airborne. But this, I believe, is the perfect height. You can survey everything from that perch while still being able to pick out details that are truly breathtaking. I will be sure to watch this video again and again--because, thankfully, it is also expertly filmed and there is not a shake of a camera or a blurring of images to irritate or frustrate. And it has a wonderful classical music soundtrack in the background--so what's not to love? Wonderful!
Tanya and I were on the phone for almost an hour as she told me about her background in musical education and the current schedule of rehearsals that she follows for year-round choir assignments. Having interviewed the Director-conductor of this choir, several months ago, Coomi Wadia, I received a lot of insightful details about the choir from one of its members. It made me want to talk to a few more choristers and, no doubt, I will be doing that soon.
My actual lunch followed: a delectable chicken mayo roll from Sassanian and Co. which I had picked up on my last heritage walk with delicious Dusseri mango for dessert. Then followed a spot of reading of my new mystery novel and my short twenty minute nap.
I awoke to begin transcribing my interview with Tanya and while I did so, my TV was turned on to the Martin School Webcam in Oxford on You Tube. At the same time, I learned from Twitter that the Oxford Encaenia Ceremony will take place tomorrow--it usually takes place on the ninth Wednesday of Trinity Term (which usually falls in June). This is the graduation ceremony that occurs at the Sheldonian Theater, that magnificent cupola-ed building that was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and which resembles an amphitheater inside. Today it is used for musical concerts (apart from official university events). It plays a big role in the Morse episode Twilight of the Gods about a famous opera singer who is to be awarded an honorary doctorate and who is killed as the procession, led by the University's Vice-Chancellor, played superbly by the one and only Sir John Gielgud, makes its way into the Clarendon Building courtyard.
Believe me, ever since I got hooked on to this webcam, I kept hoping that I would catch a glimpse of this ceremony as, in the Morse episode, the procession winds its way along Broad Street past the White Horse Tavern and Blackwell's Bookstore. If it followed the same route, I would see much of it on the webcam tomorrow. I also needed to know what time it is scheduled to go past before entering the Sheldonian as I would need to adjust local Greenwich mean time with Bombay time!
I tried looking for this information on Google but I did not find any mention of time and the route (and the program) seem to be different each year. So I emailed my friend Sue who lives in Oxford and whose partner Tony is a retired Oxford don. If anyone knows, it would be him. Sue came back really quickly with a link to the same page at which I had been looking--there was mention of the procession going from Exeter College to the Sheldonian...and if this is true, then I would see a very weighty chunk of it--unless they took the route along Brasenose Lane instead of The Broad. I am so excited. Sue also told me that in terms of timing, all she knows is that it is before lunch--so let's say it begins at 10.00 am in Oxford, that would be 2.30 pm in Bombay. I had better be ready right after my own lunch time! Fingers crossed!
Transcription done, I sat down to have my tea with a biscuit and a slice of Nahoum's fruit cake and through it all, I noticed that a vast crowd had collected outside the Weston Library. It grew steadily from 5.00 till 5.30 pm as well-togged out patrons crowded the pavement outside and kept swelling in size. Meanwhile, across the street, a huge van stopped and all sorts of furniture was being unloaded (mainly folding tables) and taken into the Sheldonian--no doubt part of tomorrow's ceremonies. At 5.30, someone opened the gates of the Weston Library and the crowd poured in. I suspect it was some sort of cocktail party or celebration associated with graduation. No doubt, for the next couple of days, I shall see a lot of gowned students milling around The Broad.
It was time for me to get dressed and go over to Dad's to see Russel and spend some time chatting before Dad and I left for Mass. Dad sent me off with a lot of goodies that he has been receiving from visitors coming to see Russel--an assortment of lamb chops, Italian Casserole, chicken patty and cheesecake came home with me--although I keep refusing, he keeps insisting that I take these home with me! Nothing if not generous, my Da!
Back home, I watched the second episode of the new McCallum series I am watching with the dishy John Hannah (to whom I first became introduced in Four Weddings and A Funeral) playing a pathologist attached to a crime unit in London. Good stuff and it keeps me enthralled!
I had a short chat with Llew whose whatsapp account seems to be hacked before I called it a night.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Last Backlog Interview Transcribed and First Phone Interview Done
Namaste from Bombay!
I am back in the swing and working like I used to--before our Latin-American vacation and Russel's second bout of hospitalization came in the way of my momentum. Anyway, my day was fruitful and productive and still left me enough time to stare at my TV screen through my Martin School Webcam in Oxford to watch preparations outside the Sheldonian Theater for tomorrow's Encaenia ceremony (more about it below).
So I was up at 6.30 and raced through my morning set of To-Dos: Twitter, email, reading newspaper and book, drafting blog post. I have lost interest in Dan Brown's Origins and decided to look for a more compelling novel. I downloaded The Cuckoo's Calling by Robert Galbraith which sounded like a wonderful murder mystery and only discovered, after I'd done so, that the author is actually JK Rowling who wrote the book under a pseudonym and is currently suing her lawyers for disclosing her identity--or something like that. I have started it and it is holding my interest--well begun is half done, as my late Mum used to say...
Then it was time for breakfast and I grated an apple and added it to my cereal bowl with chia seeds and honey and almond milk and yoghurt and a nice helping of the Fruit, Nuts and Seeds Muesli that I bought from Sainsburys in London--and I was instantly transported to my flat in Holborn when I ate this breakfast with relish almost every day, ten years ago. So come to think of it, I have been eating muesli with honey yoghurt for at least a decade! I am nothing if not a creature of habit!
It was then that I sat down to transcribe the last of the interviews I had done prior to my computer crash. Slowly but surely, over the past couple of months, I have painfully re-transcribed the interviews I lost when I erased my Documents in error. All forty of them have been re-done now. I saved the toughest one for last--an interview with the overly-voluble Associate Director of the Symphony Orchestra of India, Zane, who read Medieval History at Oxford and lets slips dates effortlessly off his tongue while pontificating on contemporary Indo-Parsi relations! Anyway, I finished transcribing the interview by 12. 30 and had about a half hour to get myself a snack because I had a phone interview scheduled for 1.00 pm with my cousin's daughter Tanya who sings with the Paranjoti Choir.
A cup of chicken leek soup with two crackers spread with Amul's incredibly good herb and garlic butter did the trick and provided the snack fuel I needed before going on to my next assignment. Meanwhile, I flipped through You Tube and found a most heartwarming aerial tour of Oxford that did two huge things for me: it took me to one of my favorite places in the world and it showed it to me from a height of about 8,000-12,000 feet: everyone knows by now that I love to look at our world from a lofty perspective when I am airborne. But this, I believe, is the perfect height. You can survey everything from that perch while still being able to pick out details that are truly breathtaking. I will be sure to watch this video again and again--because, thankfully, it is also expertly filmed and there is not a shake of a camera or a blurring of images to irritate or frustrate. And it has a wonderful classical music soundtrack in the background--so what's not to love? Wonderful!
Tanya and I were on the phone for almost an hour as she told me about her background in musical education and the current schedule of rehearsals that she follows for year-round choir assignments. Having interviewed the Director-conductor of this choir, several months ago, Coomi Wadia, I received a lot of insightful details about the choir from one of its members. It made me want to talk to a few more choristers and, no doubt, I will be doing that soon.
My actual lunch followed: a delectable chicken mayo roll from Sassanian and Co. which I had picked up on my last heritage walk with delicious Dusseri mango for dessert. Then followed a spot of reading of my new mystery novel and my short twenty minute nap.
I awoke to begin transcribing my interview with Tanya and while I did so, my TV was turned on to the Martin School Webcam in Oxford on You Tube. At the same time, I learned from Twitter that the Oxford Encaenia Ceremony will take place tomorrow--it usually takes place on the ninth Wednesday of Trinity Term (which usually falls in June). This is the graduation ceremony that occurs at the Sheldonian Theater, that magnificent cupola-ed building that was designed by Sir Christopher Wren and which resembles an amphitheater inside. Today it is used for musical concerts (apart from official university events). It plays a big role in the Morse episode Twilight of the Gods about a famous opera singer who is to be awarded an honorary doctorate and who is killed as the procession, led by the University's Vice-Chancellor, played superbly by the one and only Sir John Gielgud, makes its way into the Clarendon Building courtyard.
Believe me, ever since I got hooked on to this webcam, I kept hoping that I would catch a glimpse of this ceremony as, in the Morse episode, the procession winds its way along Broad Street past the White Horse Tavern and Blackwell's Bookstore. If it followed the same route, I would see much of it on the webcam tomorrow. I also needed to know what time it is scheduled to go past before entering the Sheldonian as I would need to adjust local Greenwich mean time with Bombay time!
I tried looking for this information on Google but I did not find any mention of time and the route (and the program) seem to be different each year. So I emailed my friend Sue who lives in Oxford and whose partner Tony is a retired Oxford don. If anyone knows, it would be him. Sue came back really quickly with a link to the same page at which I had been looking--there was mention of the procession going from Exeter College to the Sheldonian...and if this is true, then I would see a very weighty chunk of it--unless they took the route along Brasenose Lane instead of The Broad. I am so excited. Sue also told me that in terms of timing, all she knows is that it is before lunch--so let's say it begins at 10.00 am in Oxford, that would be 2.30 pm in Bombay. I had better be ready right after my own lunch time! Fingers crossed!
Transcription done, I sat down to have my tea with a biscuit and a slice of Nahoum's fruit cake and through it all, I noticed that a vast crowd had collected outside the Weston Library. It grew steadily from 5.00 till 5.30 pm as well-togged out patrons crowded the pavement outside and kept swelling in size. Meanwhile, across the street, a huge van stopped and all sorts of furniture was being unloaded (mainly folding tables) and taken into the Sheldonian--no doubt part of tomorrow's ceremonies. At 5.30, someone opened the gates of the Weston Library and the crowd poured in. I suspect it was some sort of cocktail party or celebration associated with graduation. No doubt, for the next couple of days, I shall see a lot of gowned students milling around The Broad.
It was time for me to get dressed and go over to Dad's to see Russel and spend some time chatting before Dad and I left for Mass. Dad sent me off with a lot of goodies that he has been receiving from visitors coming to see Russel--an assortment of lamb chops, Italian Casserole, chicken patty and cheesecake came home with me--although I keep refusing, he keeps insisting that I take these home with me! Nothing if not generous, my Da!
Back home, I watched the second episode of the new McCallum series I am watching with the dishy John Hannah (to whom I first became introduced in Four Weddings and A Funeral) playing a pathologist attached to a crime unit in London. Good stuff and it keeps me enthralled!
I had a short chat with Llew whose whatsapp account seems to be hacked before I called it a night.
Until tomorrow...
Monday, June 24, 2019
A Dinner Party Ends a Routine-Filled Monday
Monday, June 24, 2019
Bombay
A Dinner Party Ends a Routine-Filled Monday
Namaste from Bombay!
When I used to be told that Bombayites party every day of the week, I did not believe it--then I saw it for myself! Today promised to be routine--and was--until the dinner party to which I was invited.
Up at 6.00 am, I did the routine things I do without even leaving my bed--Twitter, email, reading novel and newspaper on Ipad. And then I was off for the day. The bread man sounded his bell and I ordered a broon which I had with mince!
This made it the traditional kheema gutli which I so remember from my childhood. It used to be sold in the canteen of St. Mary's School in Mazagoan for 25 paise each in the 1960s! It was either a lunch (if you were a small eater) to many a school boy or a hefty snack at elevenses when the school had "short recess". I ate dozens of them while watching Sunday matinee movies that used to be screened in the school hall and which my entire family used to attend (My mother used to cook our Sunday afternoon chicken curry lunch on Saturday so that she and my Dad could attend the matinee too!). I ate the crisp-shelled gutli with the warmed mince and I enjoyed it immensely. I watched the last bit of the P.D. James murder mystery I had started watching last night (The Word is Murder) starring her Detective Commander Adam Dalgleish (not with Martin Shaw, but the other actor whose name I now forget). It was good if rather complicated.
That done, I sat down to work. But then I realized I had not sent off my blog post and because it was based on the last heritage walk I took yesterday with Nafisa, it took absolutely ages to write. When it was finished, I started to actually do work--first of all, I had the last of the two interviews left to be transcribed and I finished one of them as lunch time drew up. This leaves me just one more interview to transcribe and my backlog will be history!
Lunch was leftovers that I brought back from my meal at the Bandra Gym with Marianel, two days ago--Lasagne Verdure with one chappati and Greek Salad. I had some delicious dusseri mango for dessert. In the process of savoring the city's mangoes, I am also learning the different species of them.
I decided to have my short 20 minute nap after which I faffed around a little bit, then went in for a shower and shampoo. When tea-time came round, I had a pot of tea with one cookie (my new M and S stash that I picked up from London--Pineapple and White Chocolate Cookies) and a slice of fruit cake that I had frozen after picking it up from Nahoum's Bakery in Calcutta when I was there last December. It is extraordinary!
Then it was time for me to make a few phone calls and send out whatsapp messages for interviews that I would like to schedule going forward and that took a bit more of my time. When that was done, I got dressed and walked to The Bagel Shop to buy bagels for the friends who had invited me to their home for dinner. I thought that bagels would be a typically New York present for a New York guest to give! From there, I walked to Dad's and spent the evening with Russel as Dad sorted through a bunch of things he had to do. I had to leave just a little earlier for Mass today as I was the Lector assigned the Second Reading. Right after Mass, I left the church and walked back to his gate with Dad.
From there, I ordered an Uber and it showed up to pick me up within four minutes. The journey to Worli Sea Face where my friends live took all of 12 minutes and I was only the second guest entering their home--the guy who beat me to it was from Washington DC! Only the expats, it seems, have any sense of dinner party timing in Bombay!
I always have a good time with my hosts Liz and Jeevan who are great company and whom I feel I have known forever although I have only met them about three times--through a mutual friend who visited Bombay from Connecticut. Soon we were joined by three or four other couples. The guest from DC happened to be a guitarist who once played with a group in Bombay and it was not long before Liz produced a guitar, placed it in his hands and asked him to strum for us. He did so willingly, but, believe me, I have never been to a party where the guests suggest a song, sing three lines of it before someone else pipes in with another suggestion and the switch is made. Nor have I been to a party where the singing was supposed to be 'community' but one person, sitting close to the guitarist thought he was the soloist--the only one at the party--and was completely oblivious to the fact that others at the party were also singing. It was the most weird session of community singing I have ever come across. At one point, while we were right in the middle of a song, one of the guests jumped up, asked the guitarist if he knew a particular song and when he said No, proceeded to find the song on her phone and then play it to us! Later, this same guest asked Alexa (who probably had the most attention throughout the evening) if she could play the song! The poor guitarist was left with the guitar in his hand wondering why he had been handed the instrument and why he had been asked to play. I was most amused! That said, the guests were the friendliest lot ever and several jumped up and took to the floor when the rhythm dictated! I even spoke to Alexa for the first time in my life and asked her to play "Waterloo" by Abba which then make me pull Jeevan up on the floor and get him to jive (the first time in his life!) What a fun time we all had!
If community singing was a disaster, dinner, on the other hand, was simply superb. Liz is reputedly an excellent chef and I got a taste of her talents as she filled her table (as Indians always do) with an array of dishes from her Keralite thoran to continental specialties such as a Vegetable Lasagne, mushroom filled crepes, a watermelon and cucumber salad and Indian dishes like chicken curry with plain steamed rice. The food was so delicious that I'd have loved to have taken seconds but I was too full and there was dessert yet to come--home made Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Ice-cream. It was a meal fit for royalty and Liz probably killed herself putting that spread on the table.
I was all set to get an Uber when I discovered that one of the couples was actually driving over to Bandra to pick up their daughter who was working late. They offered to drop me off which was wonderful as I got a ride that made my life really easy at that late hour.
Indeed, Bombayites do party with a vengeance every day of the week--granted this lot were all retired and can afford to have leisurely lie-ins tomorrow...but still. It was odd for me to be in the middle of a rollicking party at the beginning of a week and I have to say that I had a grand time.
I came home, changed, brushed and flossed my teeth and went straight to bed.
What a crazy start to a new week!
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
A Dinner Party Ends a Routine-Filled Monday
Namaste from Bombay!
When I used to be told that Bombayites party every day of the week, I did not believe it--then I saw it for myself! Today promised to be routine--and was--until the dinner party to which I was invited.
Up at 6.00 am, I did the routine things I do without even leaving my bed--Twitter, email, reading novel and newspaper on Ipad. And then I was off for the day. The bread man sounded his bell and I ordered a broon which I had with mince!
This made it the traditional kheema gutli which I so remember from my childhood. It used to be sold in the canteen of St. Mary's School in Mazagoan for 25 paise each in the 1960s! It was either a lunch (if you were a small eater) to many a school boy or a hefty snack at elevenses when the school had "short recess". I ate dozens of them while watching Sunday matinee movies that used to be screened in the school hall and which my entire family used to attend (My mother used to cook our Sunday afternoon chicken curry lunch on Saturday so that she and my Dad could attend the matinee too!). I ate the crisp-shelled gutli with the warmed mince and I enjoyed it immensely. I watched the last bit of the P.D. James murder mystery I had started watching last night (The Word is Murder) starring her Detective Commander Adam Dalgleish (not with Martin Shaw, but the other actor whose name I now forget). It was good if rather complicated.
That done, I sat down to work. But then I realized I had not sent off my blog post and because it was based on the last heritage walk I took yesterday with Nafisa, it took absolutely ages to write. When it was finished, I started to actually do work--first of all, I had the last of the two interviews left to be transcribed and I finished one of them as lunch time drew up. This leaves me just one more interview to transcribe and my backlog will be history!
Lunch was leftovers that I brought back from my meal at the Bandra Gym with Marianel, two days ago--Lasagne Verdure with one chappati and Greek Salad. I had some delicious dusseri mango for dessert. In the process of savoring the city's mangoes, I am also learning the different species of them.
I decided to have my short 20 minute nap after which I faffed around a little bit, then went in for a shower and shampoo. When tea-time came round, I had a pot of tea with one cookie (my new M and S stash that I picked up from London--Pineapple and White Chocolate Cookies) and a slice of fruit cake that I had frozen after picking it up from Nahoum's Bakery in Calcutta when I was there last December. It is extraordinary!
Then it was time for me to make a few phone calls and send out whatsapp messages for interviews that I would like to schedule going forward and that took a bit more of my time. When that was done, I got dressed and walked to The Bagel Shop to buy bagels for the friends who had invited me to their home for dinner. I thought that bagels would be a typically New York present for a New York guest to give! From there, I walked to Dad's and spent the evening with Russel as Dad sorted through a bunch of things he had to do. I had to leave just a little earlier for Mass today as I was the Lector assigned the Second Reading. Right after Mass, I left the church and walked back to his gate with Dad.
From there, I ordered an Uber and it showed up to pick me up within four minutes. The journey to Worli Sea Face where my friends live took all of 12 minutes and I was only the second guest entering their home--the guy who beat me to it was from Washington DC! Only the expats, it seems, have any sense of dinner party timing in Bombay!
I always have a good time with my hosts Liz and Jeevan who are great company and whom I feel I have known forever although I have only met them about three times--through a mutual friend who visited Bombay from Connecticut. Soon we were joined by three or four other couples. The guest from DC happened to be a guitarist who once played with a group in Bombay and it was not long before Liz produced a guitar, placed it in his hands and asked him to strum for us. He did so willingly, but, believe me, I have never been to a party where the guests suggest a song, sing three lines of it before someone else pipes in with another suggestion and the switch is made. Nor have I been to a party where the singing was supposed to be 'community' but one person, sitting close to the guitarist thought he was the soloist--the only one at the party--and was completely oblivious to the fact that others at the party were also singing. It was the most weird session of community singing I have ever come across. At one point, while we were right in the middle of a song, one of the guests jumped up, asked the guitarist if he knew a particular song and when he said No, proceeded to find the song on her phone and then play it to us! Later, this same guest asked Alexa (who probably had the most attention throughout the evening) if she could play the song! The poor guitarist was left with the guitar in his hand wondering why he had been handed the instrument and why he had been asked to play. I was most amused! That said, the guests were the friendliest lot ever and several jumped up and took to the floor when the rhythm dictated! I even spoke to Alexa for the first time in my life and asked her to play "Waterloo" by Abba which then make me pull Jeevan up on the floor and get him to jive (the first time in his life!) What a fun time we all had!
If community singing was a disaster, dinner, on the other hand, was simply superb. Liz is reputedly an excellent chef and I got a taste of her talents as she filled her table (as Indians always do) with an array of dishes from her Keralite thoran to continental specialties such as a Vegetable Lasagne, mushroom filled crepes, a watermelon and cucumber salad and Indian dishes like chicken curry with plain steamed rice. The food was so delicious that I'd have loved to have taken seconds but I was too full and there was dessert yet to come--home made Chocolate Cake with Vanilla Ice-cream. It was a meal fit for royalty and Liz probably killed herself putting that spread on the table.
I was all set to get an Uber when I discovered that one of the couples was actually driving over to Bandra to pick up their daughter who was working late. They offered to drop me off which was wonderful as I got a ride that made my life really easy at that late hour.
Indeed, Bombayites do party with a vengeance every day of the week--granted this lot were all retired and can afford to have leisurely lie-ins tomorrow...but still. It was odd for me to be in the middle of a rollicking party at the beginning of a week and I have to say that I had a grand time.
I came home, changed, brushed and flossed my teeth and went straight to bed.
What a crazy start to a new week!
Until tomorrow...
Super Sunday as I Finish All Ten Heritage Walks in Bombay!
Sunday, June 23, 2019
Bombay
Super Sunday as I Finish All Ten Heritage Walks in Bombay!
Namaste from Bombay!
Exactly two months before I leave Bombay to return to Southport, Connecticut, I am beginning to think of completing all the items on my Bombay To-Do List. Among them was finishing up all Ten Heritage Walks from the Book entitled Ten Heritage Walks of Mumbai by Fiona Fernandez that I had bought a few years ago. I have really had only about six months to do them all--so much of my time was taken by family health issues related to Russel, by my own travel (both in India and overseas) and by the brutality of summer heat. Still, I wanted to get finished before the monsoon really barged in. So when I called my friend Nafisa last week and told her that I would like to ear-mark Sunday for the last heritage walk in the book, she was game to go with me. We thought we'd meet at about 3.00 pm and finish off the day with dinner somewhere nice.
Off to Mass:
My day began at abut 4.30 am (I had fallen asleep at 10.00 pm) when I blogged, read my Twitter feed and scanned the weekend edition of the Times of London--the weekend magazine is my favorite bit of it. Then, at 7.30 am, after a quick cup of coffee and a slice of bread spread with the new delicious mango jam that my friend Marianel gifted me yesterday, I left for the 8.00 am Mass.
After Mass, when I went over to Dad's bench (I sit right under the fans--he sits separately as he does not feel too hot), I discovered that he was feeling giddy. He said he began feeling faint at the Gospel and had sat down through it. By Communion, even though he made a brave attempt to get from his fifth row to the front, he felt giddy at the first bench and sank right down into it. After Mass, I asked him if he'd eaten his breakfast and he said he had come to church on an empty stomach--at his age, 89! I was aghast! I, who am decades younger, never ever go to Mass without eating something as I do remember feeling faint in church when I was in Grade 10 because I had not eaten breakfast. Ever after that, I have a coffee at least before getting to church--especially in the Bombay heat, it is criminal not to eat something before leaving the house. I asked Dad if I could get him a cup of coffee and a batata vada (which is always available outside church after every Mass), but he firmly declined and said he would prefer to get home. Maurice, our sacristan, called us a rickshaw that came right up to the church door and I accompanied Dad home.
Inside his flat, I rushed Rohit through preparing his breakfast--coffee, toast, a fried egg, mango...and magically, Dad felt better immediately. I told him to promise me that he would eat something before he leaves for morning Mass again. He simply could not get over the fact that lack of food is affecting him so badly. I told him to consider his age! And to understand the science of it. Your hypo-glycemic (sugar) levels drop when you go without food after a whole night of fasting! It's not rocket science! Sugar produces energy--it is the fuel--that keeps the body going. Without it, we will crash. I think that Dad believes that he is 18 years old--certainly at heart, he is still a teenager! Anyway, I was looking forward to ordering a South Indian breakfast for all of us today, but in the end, with Dad incapacitated, I ordered a plate of idlis and a masala dosa which Russel and I shared. I loved the sambhar and chutney that came with it and by the time I finished having my fill, it was about 10.30 am. I told Dad and Russel that lunch would be late--at 1.30 pm today as we have all eaten such a late breakfast.
Back home, I changed and took a nap--waking up at 4.30 am and having such a thick breakfast rendered me comatose! The nap felt very refreshing indeed and gave me the second wind I needed to clean my studio and my bathroom. It took me over an hour but I always feel so virtuous when it is done and the place is shiny after all the sweeping, swabbing and dusting I do.
That done, I ordered lunch from Bandra Gymkhana--Spaghetti Arabiatta, Kung Pao Spicy Pork and a Caesar Salad. When Uday called me to tell me they were ready, I strolled off to pick them and then made my way to Dad's. The heat and humidity were super oppressive so I also bought a diet Coke and had it at Dad's with a ton of ice! Lunch was a nice meal as the three of us (Russel still on his bed as he cannot put weight on his foot until the staples are removed on Friday) enjoyed it. We had fresh papaya for dessert.
I returned home and was just about to treat myself to yet another nap when I got a call from Nafisa. I had clean forgotten about our 3.00 pm date for our last heritage walking tour. She was waiting for me at her place in Byculla and wondered why I hadn't turned up! I told her to give me five minutes to get organized and I would order an Uber and be at her place within 45 minutes! Postponing it to next Sunday would not work as she is off to Kerala on a holiday and we are trying to beat the fury of the monsoon which is expected to officially break over Bombay in a couple of days! So off I went.
Taking the Last of the Heritage Walking Tours of Bombay:
My Uber driver dropped me off outside Hume High School on Byculla Bridge where Nafisa was waiting for me. We hopped into a "kali-pili" (black and yellow cab) and got off at Crawford Market here our walk began. '
So here is what we saw and what we did:
1. Exterior look at the lovely building that houses Crawford Market (I had done the inside on another walk).
2. Walk into the interior lane leading to the visually stunning Jama Masjid. Women are allowed in a separate section to pray but not wearing the kind of clothing I had on: cropped pants and red tank top to beat the heat. We viewed the superb tank inside (which has fish in it) from the outside and left.
3. Walk along Lohar Chawl--this is the center of the interior lighting market of Bombay. As an interior decorator for the past 30 years, this is Nafisa's regular haunt and she knows many of the Bohri owners by name as she does business with them. We paused frequently to admire the old British-era buildings with their ornamental paster work, embellished balconies with their Neo-classical details. Sadly, most are in very poor shape as current tenants (most still paying only a few rupees in these rent-controlled habitations) have landlords who cannot afford to maintain them.
4. Walk towards Princess Street to the Indian Art Studio (one of the oldest photography studios in Bombay). This area is the center of the medical and homeopathic industry and we passed Roy and Co, the city's oldest homeopath. This is an absolute maze of streets that I have never had occasion to explore because they are completely off the beaten path. Sunday was simply the best day to be here as the streets have very little traffic, all the shops have downed shutters and there is no human movement at all. This is how Bombay would have looked 70 years ago when the British still reigned. Wonderful!
5. We arrived at the to Parsi Aguiaries that stand very close to each other on Princess Street--the Wadia Atash Behram (which has its own compound) and the Anjuman Fire Temple that is right on the main road. Architecturally they are both very different: the former looks like a large bungalow, the other is a Neo-Classical Greek Temple with tall Doric pillars supporting the higher floors. The building is very poorly maintained and could do with some re-plastering and a lick of paint.
6. A walk down Princess Street towards Metro Cinema took us past David and Co which every Catholic in Bombay knows as the place to go for ordering wedding and First Communion invitation cards. All the way down this street, we passed by beautiful old buildings that probably have spacious flats inside--they are all uniformly decrepit and poorly maintained but they have lovely bow-shaped balconies that have original wrought-iron railings and a ton of ornamental plaster work on the outside--exactly as you see on the buildings of Central London (which is why I always sit on the upper deck of the red buses).
7. Kyani and Co: At the end of the road, in a famous building called Jer Mahal, we arrived at Bombay's most famous Irani restaurant--Kyani and Co. Its twin, Bastani and Co, closed down a little while ago. This institution is still holding its own, one of the last few bastions of a tradition that was carried to the Indian sub-continent by the Irani Zoroastrians who brought their religion, culture, fire temples and food to cities like Bombay and Karachi where they served their signature "bun-maskas, kheema-paus, caramel custards" and their huge array of cakes and biscuits. If I might be permitted to make an aside her, I should tell you that when I was all of five years old, I memorized the list of goodies available inside an Irani restaurant called Star of Persia that used to be right outside my school gate: It went like this: "Tea, Coffee, Cold Drinks, All Kinds of Sweet Drinks, Ice-Cream, Cakes, Assorted Biscuits, Hot Khara Biscuits, Samosas, Patties, Always Can Be Had Here"! Whew! The Power of the Memory trained at Age Five to recall things a whole lifetime later! Amazing! Of course, Nafisa and I had to go in, past the showcases filled with cakes (including the famous mawa cakes) and biscuits to find a seat at one of the marble topped, bentwood tables, where I ordered a cold lemonade and she got a cold Slice (the modern day equivalent of a Mangola). After our refreshing pause, we continued.
7. Jer Mahal: Jer Mahal is the landmark building in which Kyani's is located. It is unique in that it is a rounded building that follows the rounded curve of the street. It is the building in which both B.X. Furtado and L.M. Furtado are located on the ground floor. They have a monopoly on the sale of Western musical instruments and printed material in Bombay (maybe India) and it was in his showroom that I had interviewed Alex Gomes (who now runs Furtados) a few months ago. Nafisa and I found the entrance to the building, part of which has been beautifully refurbished after its lovely wooden balconies collapsed a few years ago. However, they ran out of funds and renovation has been halted. Inside, the entrance to the building is in a sort of courtyard like you find in the buildings of Paris but it is in such a horribly decrepit condition and so unhygenic that the stench of open gutters was unbearable and I had to scurry out of it.
7. Cawasji Framji Hall: Right opposite is the Cawasji Framji Hall which houses a Library and Reading Room--sadly closed as it was Sunday. This is one of the Victorian Reading Rooms (and Bombay can boast a few) in which the British encouraged the habit of reading. Today, there is a department store on the ground floor and the place has been used for at least 30 years for exhibitions of clothing and other such sales. In the courtyard are two sculptures of erstwhile worthies: One of the learned Parsi Kavasji Petigara (who probably encouraged his fellow-Parsis to use the Reading Room) and another of Dr. Arranjo Gabriel Veigas, a Goan who was a Bombay Municipal Councillor for decades and represented the Goan population of the area which is also known as Dhobi Talao. This was once a Goan stronghold. In fact, the area once used to be punctuated with Goan 'clubs' that were run especially for Goan expatriates in the city of Bombay who came from Goa on steamers with just one trunk. They were each given a bed and enough space to stash their trunks outside. These were the starting points for so many Goan Catholic migrants who made Bombay their home. I had once, as a little girl, visited one of these places with my Dad and remember feeling utterly fascinated by what I saw--not least of which were the exclusively male inhabitants who wore singlets and shorts as they milled around the corridors. I think those 'Clubs' (hostels really) have long ceased to be.
8. Metro Cinema: We had to go into Metro Cinema--one of the earliest cinema houses in Bombay and a place where I know my Dad and Mum had many dates in their courting days in the early 1950s. Like most of Bombay's cinemas, this building is designed in beautiful Art Deco style. It is now a multiplex and, in an attempt to save it, the lobby has been converted into an upscale restaurant called Cafe Unwind. The Art Decor interior fixtures have been retained from the stunning lighting to the plaster and stucco pattern on the walls. Just lovely! The original box offices outside are also still in place and I do remember many movie shows that I have seen here with friends (Metro only showed English movies then) during my college days when I skipped classes to hang out with friends. God alone knows how I ended up with a life-long career as an academic!
9. The Taxi-Driver's Mosque: We left Metro to walk towards the railway lines along a street that has two gems--One is the so-called Taxi-Driver's Mosque. This beautifully-painted mosque sits in an island of its own (similar to The Church of St. Clement Danes at Aldwych in London that sits bang in the center of Fleet Street on its own island!). Taxi-drivers park their vehicles in a long row outside so that they can do namaz inside--hence, the name.
10. The other gem on this street is Sassanian and Co--another one of the surviving Irani restaurants that was set up in the early 20th century by R. Sassanian. It announces itself on its board outside as a "Boulangerie"--how French is that??--and sells an array of cakes and traditional biscuits (we were invited to sample the wine biscuits which the salesman assured us had no wine in them (!) and cashew macaroons (which were studded with minced cashew-nuts). He also invited us to go inside the place and look at the restaurant--this turned out to be an Irani restaurant, similar to Kyanis, where there were more marble-topped, bentwood furniture and where the menu was different from the take-out bakery. I asked for permission to take a few pictures (and did) and returned to the "boulangerie" where Nafisa bought chicken puffs and I bought a a Chicken Mayo roll that cost me Rs. 80 to take home. I was completely taken by the vivid red Duke raspberry drinks (still sold here) and the vivid red tea glasses filled with what looks like raspberry jelly--but I was told by the salesman that it was china grass jelly!!!! Now how quaint is that???
11. Liberty Cinema: We then strolled to Liberty Cinema, another Art Deco Temple of entertainment in the heyday of cinema in Bombay. Nafisa nipped into a pharmacy on its ground floor after which we took in the orderly line snaking into the theater to see a film called Kabir Singh--probably a new release. We live in the age of Netflix but movie-going is alive and kicking in Bombay. We poked our noses through the glass to take in the glorious lobby with its Art Decor details, its straight and wavy lights and its enormous light fixtures that are all in a brilliant state of preservation. Hurrah!
12. Bombay Hospital: We walked past Bombay Hospital which had painful personal memories for me--my mother had a mastectomy here under the surgeon Dr Arthur D'Sa (whose daughter Vanessa went on to become my classmate at Elphinstone College) at the age of 44. She survived it and lived till the age of 80--a true role model to me! Roger, my brother, then all of 14, used to accompany her for radiation to the same hospital, twice a week, and my Dad told me, in later years, how touched she used to be by the fact that he always asked her if she wanted to stop somewhere for a cold drink after the ordeal of radiation. Even at that age, Dad told me, he was so thoughtful and so understanding. It continues to be an important research-oriented hospital although both my Mum and Dr. D'Sa are both long gone.
13. West End Hotel: You might remember that I started my Fulbright year in Bombay as a week-long guest at the West End where I was put up by the United States-India Education Foundation. I had loved the old-world, old-fashioned, courtesy with which I had been treated and the wonderful memories I have garnered of my very first week in the city, ten months ago. It was good to go back there and see a few familiar faces (the lift man, even the Parsi owner, Mr. Katgara, I believe, was there in the lobby). However, we did not go inside. The outside is getting a major face lift (it had begun when I was there) and slowly but steadily, the work is being accomplished.
14. Our Lady of Dolours Church: A short walk back through a gully brought us to Our Lady of Dolours Church which was closed (sadly). It is supposed to have a note-worthy cross inside.
15. Nawa House: This was not in my book but we made a detour into this most charming residential building in its own high-walled compound and horse carriage porch. The watchman allowed us to wander in and take in the sights of the beautiful tree-lined, leafy front compound and of the Art Deco floor and wall tiles in the watchman's booth--just imagine what the inside of the building must be like!
Plans to Have Dinner:
This brought us to the end of our walk. It was almost 7.00 pm and we had been on our feet for two and a half hours! Nafisa had in mind a place that offered a seafood thali and she suggested we go on foot over the Princess Street Flyover to find it. Only when we got there, we discovered that it had become Gagan--a pure Veg restaurant. It was time to find some place else. I did not want to back track and go over to Colaba--so I suggested we get to Opera House to Kobe for sizzlers. And since Nafisa was game, that was what we did.
We took a cab to Kobe and at 7.45 were among the early diners--this gave us the chance to spread out on a table where we ordered a sizzling steak with mash and grilled veg with a side order of grilled mushrooms. This was truly a hissing sizzling feast on a plate--we shared it, of course, and had our fill of amazing food. The steak (we asked for medium rare) was done to perfection. The veggies were so flavorful, the mash was just perfectly creamy. I mean it was simply superlative. This too, if you can believe it, was on my To-Do List of Things to Do in Bombay on my trip--so I ended up killing two birds with one stone as I finished the last of the ten heritage walks in my book and had a sizzler--which was a reward of sorts for my pains!
I hopped into a kalipili for my ride home and dropped Nafisa off at Kemp's Corner from where she would take a cab home too.
Back home at 9.30 pm, I had a look at my email and then cursorily looked at some TV before switching off the light and making an early night of it.
What a grand finale it had been to my Heritage walks! I feel so proud of myself for what I have accomplished in terms of dipping so seriously into Bombay's colorful history (mostly Colonial) and completing my goal (just as I had done in London). And what's more, I managed to beat the monsoon and do it before the rain tore in--probably not a moment too soon as they are expected in a day or two. What a fabulous end to a superb weekend!
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Super Sunday as I Finish All Ten Heritage Walks in Bombay!
Namaste from Bombay!
Exactly two months before I leave Bombay to return to Southport, Connecticut, I am beginning to think of completing all the items on my Bombay To-Do List. Among them was finishing up all Ten Heritage Walks from the Book entitled Ten Heritage Walks of Mumbai by Fiona Fernandez that I had bought a few years ago. I have really had only about six months to do them all--so much of my time was taken by family health issues related to Russel, by my own travel (both in India and overseas) and by the brutality of summer heat. Still, I wanted to get finished before the monsoon really barged in. So when I called my friend Nafisa last week and told her that I would like to ear-mark Sunday for the last heritage walk in the book, she was game to go with me. We thought we'd meet at about 3.00 pm and finish off the day with dinner somewhere nice.
Off to Mass:
My day began at abut 4.30 am (I had fallen asleep at 10.00 pm) when I blogged, read my Twitter feed and scanned the weekend edition of the Times of London--the weekend magazine is my favorite bit of it. Then, at 7.30 am, after a quick cup of coffee and a slice of bread spread with the new delicious mango jam that my friend Marianel gifted me yesterday, I left for the 8.00 am Mass.
After Mass, when I went over to Dad's bench (I sit right under the fans--he sits separately as he does not feel too hot), I discovered that he was feeling giddy. He said he began feeling faint at the Gospel and had sat down through it. By Communion, even though he made a brave attempt to get from his fifth row to the front, he felt giddy at the first bench and sank right down into it. After Mass, I asked him if he'd eaten his breakfast and he said he had come to church on an empty stomach--at his age, 89! I was aghast! I, who am decades younger, never ever go to Mass without eating something as I do remember feeling faint in church when I was in Grade 10 because I had not eaten breakfast. Ever after that, I have a coffee at least before getting to church--especially in the Bombay heat, it is criminal not to eat something before leaving the house. I asked Dad if I could get him a cup of coffee and a batata vada (which is always available outside church after every Mass), but he firmly declined and said he would prefer to get home. Maurice, our sacristan, called us a rickshaw that came right up to the church door and I accompanied Dad home.
Inside his flat, I rushed Rohit through preparing his breakfast--coffee, toast, a fried egg, mango...and magically, Dad felt better immediately. I told him to promise me that he would eat something before he leaves for morning Mass again. He simply could not get over the fact that lack of food is affecting him so badly. I told him to consider his age! And to understand the science of it. Your hypo-glycemic (sugar) levels drop when you go without food after a whole night of fasting! It's not rocket science! Sugar produces energy--it is the fuel--that keeps the body going. Without it, we will crash. I think that Dad believes that he is 18 years old--certainly at heart, he is still a teenager! Anyway, I was looking forward to ordering a South Indian breakfast for all of us today, but in the end, with Dad incapacitated, I ordered a plate of idlis and a masala dosa which Russel and I shared. I loved the sambhar and chutney that came with it and by the time I finished having my fill, it was about 10.30 am. I told Dad and Russel that lunch would be late--at 1.30 pm today as we have all eaten such a late breakfast.
Back home, I changed and took a nap--waking up at 4.30 am and having such a thick breakfast rendered me comatose! The nap felt very refreshing indeed and gave me the second wind I needed to clean my studio and my bathroom. It took me over an hour but I always feel so virtuous when it is done and the place is shiny after all the sweeping, swabbing and dusting I do.
That done, I ordered lunch from Bandra Gymkhana--Spaghetti Arabiatta, Kung Pao Spicy Pork and a Caesar Salad. When Uday called me to tell me they were ready, I strolled off to pick them and then made my way to Dad's. The heat and humidity were super oppressive so I also bought a diet Coke and had it at Dad's with a ton of ice! Lunch was a nice meal as the three of us (Russel still on his bed as he cannot put weight on his foot until the staples are removed on Friday) enjoyed it. We had fresh papaya for dessert.
I returned home and was just about to treat myself to yet another nap when I got a call from Nafisa. I had clean forgotten about our 3.00 pm date for our last heritage walking tour. She was waiting for me at her place in Byculla and wondered why I hadn't turned up! I told her to give me five minutes to get organized and I would order an Uber and be at her place within 45 minutes! Postponing it to next Sunday would not work as she is off to Kerala on a holiday and we are trying to beat the fury of the monsoon which is expected to officially break over Bombay in a couple of days! So off I went.
Taking the Last of the Heritage Walking Tours of Bombay:
My Uber driver dropped me off outside Hume High School on Byculla Bridge where Nafisa was waiting for me. We hopped into a "kali-pili" (black and yellow cab) and got off at Crawford Market here our walk began. '
So here is what we saw and what we did:
1. Exterior look at the lovely building that houses Crawford Market (I had done the inside on another walk).
2. Walk into the interior lane leading to the visually stunning Jama Masjid. Women are allowed in a separate section to pray but not wearing the kind of clothing I had on: cropped pants and red tank top to beat the heat. We viewed the superb tank inside (which has fish in it) from the outside and left.
3. Walk along Lohar Chawl--this is the center of the interior lighting market of Bombay. As an interior decorator for the past 30 years, this is Nafisa's regular haunt and she knows many of the Bohri owners by name as she does business with them. We paused frequently to admire the old British-era buildings with their ornamental paster work, embellished balconies with their Neo-classical details. Sadly, most are in very poor shape as current tenants (most still paying only a few rupees in these rent-controlled habitations) have landlords who cannot afford to maintain them.
4. Walk towards Princess Street to the Indian Art Studio (one of the oldest photography studios in Bombay). This area is the center of the medical and homeopathic industry and we passed Roy and Co, the city's oldest homeopath. This is an absolute maze of streets that I have never had occasion to explore because they are completely off the beaten path. Sunday was simply the best day to be here as the streets have very little traffic, all the shops have downed shutters and there is no human movement at all. This is how Bombay would have looked 70 years ago when the British still reigned. Wonderful!
5. We arrived at the to Parsi Aguiaries that stand very close to each other on Princess Street--the Wadia Atash Behram (which has its own compound) and the Anjuman Fire Temple that is right on the main road. Architecturally they are both very different: the former looks like a large bungalow, the other is a Neo-Classical Greek Temple with tall Doric pillars supporting the higher floors. The building is very poorly maintained and could do with some re-plastering and a lick of paint.
6. A walk down Princess Street towards Metro Cinema took us past David and Co which every Catholic in Bombay knows as the place to go for ordering wedding and First Communion invitation cards. All the way down this street, we passed by beautiful old buildings that probably have spacious flats inside--they are all uniformly decrepit and poorly maintained but they have lovely bow-shaped balconies that have original wrought-iron railings and a ton of ornamental plaster work on the outside--exactly as you see on the buildings of Central London (which is why I always sit on the upper deck of the red buses).
7. Kyani and Co: At the end of the road, in a famous building called Jer Mahal, we arrived at Bombay's most famous Irani restaurant--Kyani and Co. Its twin, Bastani and Co, closed down a little while ago. This institution is still holding its own, one of the last few bastions of a tradition that was carried to the Indian sub-continent by the Irani Zoroastrians who brought their religion, culture, fire temples and food to cities like Bombay and Karachi where they served their signature "bun-maskas, kheema-paus, caramel custards" and their huge array of cakes and biscuits. If I might be permitted to make an aside her, I should tell you that when I was all of five years old, I memorized the list of goodies available inside an Irani restaurant called Star of Persia that used to be right outside my school gate: It went like this: "Tea, Coffee, Cold Drinks, All Kinds of Sweet Drinks, Ice-Cream, Cakes, Assorted Biscuits, Hot Khara Biscuits, Samosas, Patties, Always Can Be Had Here"! Whew! The Power of the Memory trained at Age Five to recall things a whole lifetime later! Amazing! Of course, Nafisa and I had to go in, past the showcases filled with cakes (including the famous mawa cakes) and biscuits to find a seat at one of the marble topped, bentwood tables, where I ordered a cold lemonade and she got a cold Slice (the modern day equivalent of a Mangola). After our refreshing pause, we continued.
7. Jer Mahal: Jer Mahal is the landmark building in which Kyani's is located. It is unique in that it is a rounded building that follows the rounded curve of the street. It is the building in which both B.X. Furtado and L.M. Furtado are located on the ground floor. They have a monopoly on the sale of Western musical instruments and printed material in Bombay (maybe India) and it was in his showroom that I had interviewed Alex Gomes (who now runs Furtados) a few months ago. Nafisa and I found the entrance to the building, part of which has been beautifully refurbished after its lovely wooden balconies collapsed a few years ago. However, they ran out of funds and renovation has been halted. Inside, the entrance to the building is in a sort of courtyard like you find in the buildings of Paris but it is in such a horribly decrepit condition and so unhygenic that the stench of open gutters was unbearable and I had to scurry out of it.
7. Cawasji Framji Hall: Right opposite is the Cawasji Framji Hall which houses a Library and Reading Room--sadly closed as it was Sunday. This is one of the Victorian Reading Rooms (and Bombay can boast a few) in which the British encouraged the habit of reading. Today, there is a department store on the ground floor and the place has been used for at least 30 years for exhibitions of clothing and other such sales. In the courtyard are two sculptures of erstwhile worthies: One of the learned Parsi Kavasji Petigara (who probably encouraged his fellow-Parsis to use the Reading Room) and another of Dr. Arranjo Gabriel Veigas, a Goan who was a Bombay Municipal Councillor for decades and represented the Goan population of the area which is also known as Dhobi Talao. This was once a Goan stronghold. In fact, the area once used to be punctuated with Goan 'clubs' that were run especially for Goan expatriates in the city of Bombay who came from Goa on steamers with just one trunk. They were each given a bed and enough space to stash their trunks outside. These were the starting points for so many Goan Catholic migrants who made Bombay their home. I had once, as a little girl, visited one of these places with my Dad and remember feeling utterly fascinated by what I saw--not least of which were the exclusively male inhabitants who wore singlets and shorts as they milled around the corridors. I think those 'Clubs' (hostels really) have long ceased to be.
8. Metro Cinema: We had to go into Metro Cinema--one of the earliest cinema houses in Bombay and a place where I know my Dad and Mum had many dates in their courting days in the early 1950s. Like most of Bombay's cinemas, this building is designed in beautiful Art Deco style. It is now a multiplex and, in an attempt to save it, the lobby has been converted into an upscale restaurant called Cafe Unwind. The Art Decor interior fixtures have been retained from the stunning lighting to the plaster and stucco pattern on the walls. Just lovely! The original box offices outside are also still in place and I do remember many movie shows that I have seen here with friends (Metro only showed English movies then) during my college days when I skipped classes to hang out with friends. God alone knows how I ended up with a life-long career as an academic!
9. The Taxi-Driver's Mosque: We left Metro to walk towards the railway lines along a street that has two gems--One is the so-called Taxi-Driver's Mosque. This beautifully-painted mosque sits in an island of its own (similar to The Church of St. Clement Danes at Aldwych in London that sits bang in the center of Fleet Street on its own island!). Taxi-drivers park their vehicles in a long row outside so that they can do namaz inside--hence, the name.
10. The other gem on this street is Sassanian and Co--another one of the surviving Irani restaurants that was set up in the early 20th century by R. Sassanian. It announces itself on its board outside as a "Boulangerie"--how French is that??--and sells an array of cakes and traditional biscuits (we were invited to sample the wine biscuits which the salesman assured us had no wine in them (!) and cashew macaroons (which were studded with minced cashew-nuts). He also invited us to go inside the place and look at the restaurant--this turned out to be an Irani restaurant, similar to Kyanis, where there were more marble-topped, bentwood furniture and where the menu was different from the take-out bakery. I asked for permission to take a few pictures (and did) and returned to the "boulangerie" where Nafisa bought chicken puffs and I bought a a Chicken Mayo roll that cost me Rs. 80 to take home. I was completely taken by the vivid red Duke raspberry drinks (still sold here) and the vivid red tea glasses filled with what looks like raspberry jelly--but I was told by the salesman that it was china grass jelly!!!! Now how quaint is that???
11. Liberty Cinema: We then strolled to Liberty Cinema, another Art Deco Temple of entertainment in the heyday of cinema in Bombay. Nafisa nipped into a pharmacy on its ground floor after which we took in the orderly line snaking into the theater to see a film called Kabir Singh--probably a new release. We live in the age of Netflix but movie-going is alive and kicking in Bombay. We poked our noses through the glass to take in the glorious lobby with its Art Decor details, its straight and wavy lights and its enormous light fixtures that are all in a brilliant state of preservation. Hurrah!
12. Bombay Hospital: We walked past Bombay Hospital which had painful personal memories for me--my mother had a mastectomy here under the surgeon Dr Arthur D'Sa (whose daughter Vanessa went on to become my classmate at Elphinstone College) at the age of 44. She survived it and lived till the age of 80--a true role model to me! Roger, my brother, then all of 14, used to accompany her for radiation to the same hospital, twice a week, and my Dad told me, in later years, how touched she used to be by the fact that he always asked her if she wanted to stop somewhere for a cold drink after the ordeal of radiation. Even at that age, Dad told me, he was so thoughtful and so understanding. It continues to be an important research-oriented hospital although both my Mum and Dr. D'Sa are both long gone.
13. West End Hotel: You might remember that I started my Fulbright year in Bombay as a week-long guest at the West End where I was put up by the United States-India Education Foundation. I had loved the old-world, old-fashioned, courtesy with which I had been treated and the wonderful memories I have garnered of my very first week in the city, ten months ago. It was good to go back there and see a few familiar faces (the lift man, even the Parsi owner, Mr. Katgara, I believe, was there in the lobby). However, we did not go inside. The outside is getting a major face lift (it had begun when I was there) and slowly but steadily, the work is being accomplished.
14. Our Lady of Dolours Church: A short walk back through a gully brought us to Our Lady of Dolours Church which was closed (sadly). It is supposed to have a note-worthy cross inside.
15. Nawa House: This was not in my book but we made a detour into this most charming residential building in its own high-walled compound and horse carriage porch. The watchman allowed us to wander in and take in the sights of the beautiful tree-lined, leafy front compound and of the Art Deco floor and wall tiles in the watchman's booth--just imagine what the inside of the building must be like!
Plans to Have Dinner:
This brought us to the end of our walk. It was almost 7.00 pm and we had been on our feet for two and a half hours! Nafisa had in mind a place that offered a seafood thali and she suggested we go on foot over the Princess Street Flyover to find it. Only when we got there, we discovered that it had become Gagan--a pure Veg restaurant. It was time to find some place else. I did not want to back track and go over to Colaba--so I suggested we get to Opera House to Kobe for sizzlers. And since Nafisa was game, that was what we did.
We took a cab to Kobe and at 7.45 were among the early diners--this gave us the chance to spread out on a table where we ordered a sizzling steak with mash and grilled veg with a side order of grilled mushrooms. This was truly a hissing sizzling feast on a plate--we shared it, of course, and had our fill of amazing food. The steak (we asked for medium rare) was done to perfection. The veggies were so flavorful, the mash was just perfectly creamy. I mean it was simply superlative. This too, if you can believe it, was on my To-Do List of Things to Do in Bombay on my trip--so I ended up killing two birds with one stone as I finished the last of the ten heritage walks in my book and had a sizzler--which was a reward of sorts for my pains!
I hopped into a kalipili for my ride home and dropped Nafisa off at Kemp's Corner from where she would take a cab home too.
Back home at 9.30 pm, I had a look at my email and then cursorily looked at some TV before switching off the light and making an early night of it.
What a grand finale it had been to my Heritage walks! I feel so proud of myself for what I have accomplished in terms of dipping so seriously into Bombay's colorful history (mostly Colonial) and completing my goal (just as I had done in London). And what's more, I managed to beat the monsoon and do it before the rain tore in--probably not a moment too soon as they are expected in a day or two. What a fabulous end to a superb weekend!
Until tomorrow...
Saturday, June 22, 2019
On A Routine Saturday, A Mason Comes Calling
Saturday, June 22, 2019
Bombay
On A Routine Saturday, A Mason Comes Calling
Namaste from Bombay!
A few days after heavy showers hit the city (a remnant, apparently, of a cyclone that hit the Gujarati coast), the city has returned to its sweltering best--it is hot and humid and the air-conditioning in my studio is working overtime. Officially the monsoon will begin on June 25--so we have just a few days more, if you are a fan of sultry summers, to bask in this unmitigated heat. As I am mostly indoors all day now, I have to say frankly that it does not bother me too much. In fact, as we deal with brutal winters on the East coast of the USA (during which time we remain, for the most part, closeted in heated houses or offices), I simply perceive this heat as the tropical equivalent--and get on with it.
I awoke at 7.45 am (as I only fell asleep at 3. 15 am)--only when I heard the bread man's bicycle bell outside. But I was simply too lethargic to stir and decided to have muesli with coffee for breakfast. So I had a slow start to the morning as I read my Twitter feed, blogged for a bit and had my breakfast while watching the rest of Still Life (a Three Pines Mystery) that is set in Canada (Quebec State, Montreal) and stars Nathaniel Parker (yes, a British gentleman playing a Canadian transplant). I downloaded it on my Ipad through the Hoopla app which permits me to watch five (yes, just a measly five) films/TV shows per month!. It was very interesting as it concerned a murdered victim who was also an artist.
That done, I washed up my breakfast things and sat down to transcribe yet another interview--I am still trying to finish up the backlog from the Documents I lost during my computer crisis. As it was a longish interview, it took me all the way until lunchtime to finish it. Then I made a list of the ten other people I still would like to interview. Tomorrow I shall try to contact them by phone. I also called one of my contacts to talk about obtaining pictures as a good part of June and July was intended by me to be spend on sourcing pictures (to go with the books I am planning to write as an outcome of all my research here). As it has turned out, so much of June has passed with me traveling and dealing with Russel's hospitalization that I am now lagging behind. Hopefully, I will be able to play catch up soon.
Lunch was mince and chole with a chappati and a mango for dessert. Quite the most delicious thing about the Indian summer is the mangoes and I am feasting on them after thirty years! Nothing...not the mangoes from anywhere in Mexico or South America that are available to us in American supermarkets--come anywhere close (in flavor or texture) to these Indian topaz beauties. I could live on them.
A quick 20 minute nap later, I went in for a shower and then walked to Dad's where I was supposed to be at 3. 30 pm as Nafisa, my interior designer friend, was sending her mason to take a look at Dad's bathroom so that we can reconfigure its floor and make it more accessible for the walker of a handicapped person--Russel will probably be using a walker for a long time to come and we need to make the flat handicapped-friendly. I am supervising this venture and am very grateful that Nafisa is working with me to make this happen.
Mukesh, her mason, came along, took a look, and answered a few of Dad's questions. He is daunted by the prospect as we now discover that changing the flooring will involve changing the commode and the wash basin too--you know the drill: you go to do one thing and you end up doing a dozen more! Oh well! We must simply take it in our stride and move on. Mukesh told us that the job will take 4 days and he will give his estimated price to Nafisa who will then discuss the project in greater detail with me. We want to keep it simple and financially economical--let's hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew. But I have Dad and Russel's interests at heart. Hopefully, my concerns are not displaced.
When Mukesh left, as Dad was deep into the cricket match (India was playing Afghanistan), I sat inside and chatted with Russel. In fact, I decided to spend almost the entire evening with him as Dad too decided not to go for the Saturday evening Mass (he was too deeply involved in the cricket) and to go to church tomorrow morning with me instead.
After chatting with me for a bit, Russel had a chance to videochat with Llew who called up while I was at Dad's. After an hour or so, Russel and I began to watch the match on the TV set in his room. And the two of us then got right into it. When India finished batting, there was a 45 minute break during which time Dad decided to say the family rosary and I decided to join them in it. It was only after rosary ended at 7.15 that I finally left and went home.
On the way back home, I stopped at the grocery store for a few items I needed: Coffeemate, cheese (I bought Amul cheese slices with green chutney--a tad too spicy for me). Amul garlic and herb butter which is simply amazing, Havmor's Chocolate ice-cream (which is very good), two cans Schwepps tonic water).
Back home, I made myself a gin cocktail with pomegranate juice, lemon juice and topped off with tonic water and sat down to watch an episode of Inspector Morse (The Way Through the Woods) while nibbling on nuts and eating cheese and crackers. A little later, I stopped for dinner (mince and chole with a chappati) and later still, I paused to have chocolate ice-cream with nuts. The Morse episode was fabulous and I felt as if I was back at home in Southport, on the couch with Llew, savoring the joys of togetherness on a Saturday evening with drinks and nibbles in hand and a supreme sense of well-being. Soon...soon...
At 10.00 pm, began I was seriously sleep-deprived and after my near-insomnia of the previous night, I feel asleep.
Until tomorrow...
-->
Bombay
On A Routine Saturday, A Mason Comes Calling
Namaste from Bombay!
A few days after heavy showers hit the city (a remnant, apparently, of a cyclone that hit the Gujarati coast), the city has returned to its sweltering best--it is hot and humid and the air-conditioning in my studio is working overtime. Officially the monsoon will begin on June 25--so we have just a few days more, if you are a fan of sultry summers, to bask in this unmitigated heat. As I am mostly indoors all day now, I have to say frankly that it does not bother me too much. In fact, as we deal with brutal winters on the East coast of the USA (during which time we remain, for the most part, closeted in heated houses or offices), I simply perceive this heat as the tropical equivalent--and get on with it.
I awoke at 7.45 am (as I only fell asleep at 3. 15 am)--only when I heard the bread man's bicycle bell outside. But I was simply too lethargic to stir and decided to have muesli with coffee for breakfast. So I had a slow start to the morning as I read my Twitter feed, blogged for a bit and had my breakfast while watching the rest of Still Life (a Three Pines Mystery) that is set in Canada (Quebec State, Montreal) and stars Nathaniel Parker (yes, a British gentleman playing a Canadian transplant). I downloaded it on my Ipad through the Hoopla app which permits me to watch five (yes, just a measly five) films/TV shows per month!. It was very interesting as it concerned a murdered victim who was also an artist.
That done, I washed up my breakfast things and sat down to transcribe yet another interview--I am still trying to finish up the backlog from the Documents I lost during my computer crisis. As it was a longish interview, it took me all the way until lunchtime to finish it. Then I made a list of the ten other people I still would like to interview. Tomorrow I shall try to contact them by phone. I also called one of my contacts to talk about obtaining pictures as a good part of June and July was intended by me to be spend on sourcing pictures (to go with the books I am planning to write as an outcome of all my research here). As it has turned out, so much of June has passed with me traveling and dealing with Russel's hospitalization that I am now lagging behind. Hopefully, I will be able to play catch up soon.
Lunch was mince and chole with a chappati and a mango for dessert. Quite the most delicious thing about the Indian summer is the mangoes and I am feasting on them after thirty years! Nothing...not the mangoes from anywhere in Mexico or South America that are available to us in American supermarkets--come anywhere close (in flavor or texture) to these Indian topaz beauties. I could live on them.
A quick 20 minute nap later, I went in for a shower and then walked to Dad's where I was supposed to be at 3. 30 pm as Nafisa, my interior designer friend, was sending her mason to take a look at Dad's bathroom so that we can reconfigure its floor and make it more accessible for the walker of a handicapped person--Russel will probably be using a walker for a long time to come and we need to make the flat handicapped-friendly. I am supervising this venture and am very grateful that Nafisa is working with me to make this happen.
Mukesh, her mason, came along, took a look, and answered a few of Dad's questions. He is daunted by the prospect as we now discover that changing the flooring will involve changing the commode and the wash basin too--you know the drill: you go to do one thing and you end up doing a dozen more! Oh well! We must simply take it in our stride and move on. Mukesh told us that the job will take 4 days and he will give his estimated price to Nafisa who will then discuss the project in greater detail with me. We want to keep it simple and financially economical--let's hope I haven't bitten off more than I can chew. But I have Dad and Russel's interests at heart. Hopefully, my concerns are not displaced.
When Mukesh left, as Dad was deep into the cricket match (India was playing Afghanistan), I sat inside and chatted with Russel. In fact, I decided to spend almost the entire evening with him as Dad too decided not to go for the Saturday evening Mass (he was too deeply involved in the cricket) and to go to church tomorrow morning with me instead.
After chatting with me for a bit, Russel had a chance to videochat with Llew who called up while I was at Dad's. After an hour or so, Russel and I began to watch the match on the TV set in his room. And the two of us then got right into it. When India finished batting, there was a 45 minute break during which time Dad decided to say the family rosary and I decided to join them in it. It was only after rosary ended at 7.15 that I finally left and went home.
On the way back home, I stopped at the grocery store for a few items I needed: Coffeemate, cheese (I bought Amul cheese slices with green chutney--a tad too spicy for me). Amul garlic and herb butter which is simply amazing, Havmor's Chocolate ice-cream (which is very good), two cans Schwepps tonic water).
Back home, I made myself a gin cocktail with pomegranate juice, lemon juice and topped off with tonic water and sat down to watch an episode of Inspector Morse (The Way Through the Woods) while nibbling on nuts and eating cheese and crackers. A little later, I stopped for dinner (mince and chole with a chappati) and later still, I paused to have chocolate ice-cream with nuts. The Morse episode was fabulous and I felt as if I was back at home in Southport, on the couch with Llew, savoring the joys of togetherness on a Saturday evening with drinks and nibbles in hand and a supreme sense of well-being. Soon...soon...
At 10.00 pm, began I was seriously sleep-deprived and after my near-insomnia of the previous night, I feel asleep.
Until tomorrow...
-->
Friday, June 21, 2019
A Routine Day Apart from Lunch with Marianel
Friday, June 21, 2019
Bombay
A Routine Day Apart from Lunch with Marianel
Namaste from Bombay!
It feels grand to get back to routine again and I am savoring it. I will never ever complain that routine is stagnating or boring. I have discovered that it is what keeps us sane!
I awoke at 6.30 am and did all the things I do before even getting out of bed: reading my Twitter feed, reading the Times of London after I have downloaded the day's issue on my Ipad and hammering out a new blog post. Then I washed and had my breakfast of muesli and coffee as I also looked at extracts on You Tube of my favorite TV show of all time, As Time Goes By. Sadly, there was not much. I was looking for TV interviews that the cast might have given in their show's heydey.
After taking care of email, re-doing my Dedication page (after giving it much thought), I was ready to email it to my publisher. Since my memoir is about the year I spent in London, ten years ago, I thought it was only right that I should dedicate it to the folks who have, through the years, opened their doors to me in the UK. On further thought, I decided that it would the women in those homes--as they are the ones who run them and keep them warm and comfortable. So the Dedication is to six women who are also my closest friends in Britain (One of them has returned to live in the US--the rest continue to remain in the UK). It is getting exciting now--soon I will have another published book in my hands. It is to be titled, The Year The World Was Mine: An Anglophile Hits Half-Century (And just wait till you see the cover)!
I then sat down to transcribe another interview and it took me the rest of the morning. That done, I hopped into the bathroom for a shower and shampoo and left immediately for my Dad's place where my friend Marianel had arrived to see Russel. She lives in Girgaum but had told me yesterday that she would be in Bandra for a haircut and wondered if it would be okay to go and see Russel at his place when she was done. Knowing that she would be very welcome, we decided to meet at my Dad's after which I would treat her to lunch at Bandra Gymkhana. She loved the idea and so it was finalized.
Marianel is one of my closest and oldest friends in Bombay. We were classmates at St. Agnes' High School in Byculla and got to know each other in Grade 8. We have never lost touch as she has never moved out of the sprawling East Indian heritage bungalow that her eminent East Indian family owns in the heart of Bombay city in the village known as Khotachiwadi in Girgaum. A close relative on her father's side, Kaka Baptista, was a very prominent freedom fighter and a beacon of the community. Marianel, for her part, is an ace chef and has made quite a name for herself in Bombay for her preserves and pickles (available only to select customers). At one time, she used to cater Afternoon teas for cruise-passengers who would enjoy a grand meal at the end of one of the heritage walks that would be organized for them as part of their Bombay city experience. Alas, that opportunity seems to have dried up as the approach to her home is now badly disrupted by the digging that is going on all over Bombay to lay down the forthcoming metro system.
Marianel was her lovely bubbly self at Russel's bedside when I did hook up with her. She brought them home made lamb chops and store bought chocolate cookies. Like Ashley did yesterday, she too told me how much she had enjoyed her conversation with Russel who gave her abundant news about Bombay's priestly community--all derived from his close reading of The Examiner, the Bombay Catholic weekly. We sat together for a while and then at 1.15 pm, we took a rick to get to the dining room at the Gym.
Lunch was Lasagne Verdure (Vegetarian with spinach and tomato). It was very good although there was not a squeak of mozarella cheese in it. I could taste Amul cheese though! We also had Garlic-Pepper Prawns and a Greek Salad and as Marianel passed on dessert, I had a bowl of chocolate ice-cream. We lingered long over lunch and caught up with a whole lot of news about people we have known for at least four decades. It is always fun and heartwarming--being with Marianel--who has the largest heart and a wacky sense of humor. She gifted me a jar of her mango jam and a jar of her sweet and hot mango chutney. Suffice it to say that we had a great time together.
I got back home and had a short lie-down--a nap of no more than 20 minutes. I spent the rest of the evening literally just faffing around in my tiny studio. I could have transcribed another interview, but instead I spent a while reading Origins by Dan Brown. At about 5.00 pm, I had a cup of tea with a slice of cake and then dressed and walked off to Dad's to spend some time with him and Russel before Mass. Russel had a visitor--a parishioner named Hazel who has a special fondness for Russel and comes to see him often. Then just as she, Dad and I were getting ready to go to Mass, a neighbor, Yvette, who is also a close friend of Russel and is especially fond of him, came over to see him. We left her with him and went off to church.
When Mass was done, I remembered that I had not taken pictures of the bathroom at Dad's house which my friend Nafisa, who is an interior designer, needed, so that we can get the step in it removed and the floor tiling re-done. This is my idea and I am happy to say that Dad is running with it. Russel has been so traumatized by his fall which has fractured his leg that he refuses to go back into the bathroom again for fear that he will fall at the step that one takes to get into it. Nafisa's mason will now come along to break down the step and retile the floor so that Russel does not have to lift his feet or lower them to use the bathroom. Let us hope that this will work and that he will feel less psychologically stressed or physically intimidated.
I then got back home to my studio and decided to eat the ribbon sandwiches that Dad had given me--these were brought to his place by another one of his neighbors (who are now pouring into the house to see Russel--thankfully they are staggering their visits so that Dad is not overwhelmed by them). I also had a cup of soup while watching an Irish movie called Bad Day for the Cut. Boy, was the movie gripping! In fact, I thought it was so brilliantly written that I am amazed it is not better known. I am having quite a good time actually after having typed 'British Movies' in my Netflix search window. Highly recommended but I have to warn you, this is about the Irish Mafia, and there is a lot of blood and gore in it. Still, completely worth seeing.
But then somehow (probably after seeing such a violent movie), I simply could not get to sleep and I remained wide awake for simply hours as I tried reading, watching more TV and eventually downloading a film on Hoopla called The Song of Lunch with Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman dramatizing a simply brilliant poem by Christopher Reid. Not only is the poem superbly crafted and written, but, more importantly, it is so beautifully read by Rickman with just the right pauses and continuities, just the right modulation of voice and tone and volume and just the right speed. What a visual and aural delight--all enjoyed at 2.30 am while the rest of the world enjoyed the longest day of the year --the Summer Solstice.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
A Routine Day Apart from Lunch with Marianel
Namaste from Bombay!
It feels grand to get back to routine again and I am savoring it. I will never ever complain that routine is stagnating or boring. I have discovered that it is what keeps us sane!
I awoke at 6.30 am and did all the things I do before even getting out of bed: reading my Twitter feed, reading the Times of London after I have downloaded the day's issue on my Ipad and hammering out a new blog post. Then I washed and had my breakfast of muesli and coffee as I also looked at extracts on You Tube of my favorite TV show of all time, As Time Goes By. Sadly, there was not much. I was looking for TV interviews that the cast might have given in their show's heydey.
After taking care of email, re-doing my Dedication page (after giving it much thought), I was ready to email it to my publisher. Since my memoir is about the year I spent in London, ten years ago, I thought it was only right that I should dedicate it to the folks who have, through the years, opened their doors to me in the UK. On further thought, I decided that it would the women in those homes--as they are the ones who run them and keep them warm and comfortable. So the Dedication is to six women who are also my closest friends in Britain (One of them has returned to live in the US--the rest continue to remain in the UK). It is getting exciting now--soon I will have another published book in my hands. It is to be titled, The Year The World Was Mine: An Anglophile Hits Half-Century (And just wait till you see the cover)!
I then sat down to transcribe another interview and it took me the rest of the morning. That done, I hopped into the bathroom for a shower and shampoo and left immediately for my Dad's place where my friend Marianel had arrived to see Russel. She lives in Girgaum but had told me yesterday that she would be in Bandra for a haircut and wondered if it would be okay to go and see Russel at his place when she was done. Knowing that she would be very welcome, we decided to meet at my Dad's after which I would treat her to lunch at Bandra Gymkhana. She loved the idea and so it was finalized.
Marianel is one of my closest and oldest friends in Bombay. We were classmates at St. Agnes' High School in Byculla and got to know each other in Grade 8. We have never lost touch as she has never moved out of the sprawling East Indian heritage bungalow that her eminent East Indian family owns in the heart of Bombay city in the village known as Khotachiwadi in Girgaum. A close relative on her father's side, Kaka Baptista, was a very prominent freedom fighter and a beacon of the community. Marianel, for her part, is an ace chef and has made quite a name for herself in Bombay for her preserves and pickles (available only to select customers). At one time, she used to cater Afternoon teas for cruise-passengers who would enjoy a grand meal at the end of one of the heritage walks that would be organized for them as part of their Bombay city experience. Alas, that opportunity seems to have dried up as the approach to her home is now badly disrupted by the digging that is going on all over Bombay to lay down the forthcoming metro system.
Marianel was her lovely bubbly self at Russel's bedside when I did hook up with her. She brought them home made lamb chops and store bought chocolate cookies. Like Ashley did yesterday, she too told me how much she had enjoyed her conversation with Russel who gave her abundant news about Bombay's priestly community--all derived from his close reading of The Examiner, the Bombay Catholic weekly. We sat together for a while and then at 1.15 pm, we took a rick to get to the dining room at the Gym.
Lunch was Lasagne Verdure (Vegetarian with spinach and tomato). It was very good although there was not a squeak of mozarella cheese in it. I could taste Amul cheese though! We also had Garlic-Pepper Prawns and a Greek Salad and as Marianel passed on dessert, I had a bowl of chocolate ice-cream. We lingered long over lunch and caught up with a whole lot of news about people we have known for at least four decades. It is always fun and heartwarming--being with Marianel--who has the largest heart and a wacky sense of humor. She gifted me a jar of her mango jam and a jar of her sweet and hot mango chutney. Suffice it to say that we had a great time together.
I got back home and had a short lie-down--a nap of no more than 20 minutes. I spent the rest of the evening literally just faffing around in my tiny studio. I could have transcribed another interview, but instead I spent a while reading Origins by Dan Brown. At about 5.00 pm, I had a cup of tea with a slice of cake and then dressed and walked off to Dad's to spend some time with him and Russel before Mass. Russel had a visitor--a parishioner named Hazel who has a special fondness for Russel and comes to see him often. Then just as she, Dad and I were getting ready to go to Mass, a neighbor, Yvette, who is also a close friend of Russel and is especially fond of him, came over to see him. We left her with him and went off to church.
When Mass was done, I remembered that I had not taken pictures of the bathroom at Dad's house which my friend Nafisa, who is an interior designer, needed, so that we can get the step in it removed and the floor tiling re-done. This is my idea and I am happy to say that Dad is running with it. Russel has been so traumatized by his fall which has fractured his leg that he refuses to go back into the bathroom again for fear that he will fall at the step that one takes to get into it. Nafisa's mason will now come along to break down the step and retile the floor so that Russel does not have to lift his feet or lower them to use the bathroom. Let us hope that this will work and that he will feel less psychologically stressed or physically intimidated.
I then got back home to my studio and decided to eat the ribbon sandwiches that Dad had given me--these were brought to his place by another one of his neighbors (who are now pouring into the house to see Russel--thankfully they are staggering their visits so that Dad is not overwhelmed by them). I also had a cup of soup while watching an Irish movie called Bad Day for the Cut. Boy, was the movie gripping! In fact, I thought it was so brilliantly written that I am amazed it is not better known. I am having quite a good time actually after having typed 'British Movies' in my Netflix search window. Highly recommended but I have to warn you, this is about the Irish Mafia, and there is a lot of blood and gore in it. Still, completely worth seeing.
But then somehow (probably after seeing such a violent movie), I simply could not get to sleep and I remained wide awake for simply hours as I tried reading, watching more TV and eventually downloading a film on Hoopla called The Song of Lunch with Emma Thompson and Alan Rickman dramatizing a simply brilliant poem by Christopher Reid. Not only is the poem superbly crafted and written, but, more importantly, it is so beautifully read by Rickman with just the right pauses and continuities, just the right modulation of voice and tone and volume and just the right speed. What a visual and aural delight--all enjoyed at 2.30 am while the rest of the world enjoyed the longest day of the year --the Summer Solstice.
Until tomorrow...
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Dad Gets Dental Implants and my Cousin Veera Visits Russel
Thursday, June 20, 2019
Bombay
Dad Gets Dental Implants and my Cousin Veera Visits Russel
Namaste from Bombay!
Life has now gone back to normal for me and I am savoring my freedom to do just as I wish with my day. I was awake at 5.30am and spent about an hour reading my Twitterfeed and the The Times of London on my Ipad, a bit of Origins by Dan Brown before I got a call from Llew. We were on the phone when I heard the bread man--so I paused to get a broon for my breakfast which I ate with spreads and coffee while watching short videos about touring Oxford on You Tube.
I then got down to my laptop and spent about an hour on it as I attended to email correspondence and reviewed my Acknowledgements page and sent out my Dedication note to my publishers. Since my forthcoming book is a memoir based on the year I spent in London, ten years ago, I have decided to dedicate it to the six women who have offered me accommodation in London over the last ten years that I have lived there in short spurts.
By the time I actually got down to do some transcribing of a past interview, it was about 11.00 am and I worked on it till 1.00 pm after which I needed a stretch and some lunch. Lunch was Valerie's meal of chole and mince with chapati and part of a huge Rajapuri mango which was just fabulously sweet. I had bought it from my fruit man, three days ago and left it to ripen on my widow sill. It is amazing!
Dad Gets His Dental Implants:
Then I took a short nap and woke up in time to go in for a quick shower. I got dressed and went off to Dad's at 3.00 pm as he had a dental appointment at 3.30 pm. It was the final day of his long-drawn out dental implant process--don't even ask where the past three months have gone. I remembered going to see his dentist like it was yesterday to consult about implants. The caps were finally fitted in yesterday. The process took about 45 minutes and, needless to say, Dad looked like a new man after they were fitted. He does not have to worry now about getting them off and putting them in. The dentist called his two junior staff to have a look at them and told me again how incredible it was that Dad still had so much jaw bone at his age. He said that he has so much that he could well donate some! Well, I can only pray that after having braved the long process that has ended up in implants that Dad will have no trouble with them. He has now been called back after 3 weeks for a follow-up appointment so that the dentist can make any tiny adjustments, if need be, and find out how Dad is faring with them. Phew! A Huge Mission Accomplished! And, once again, I am so impressed and inspired by my Dad who has taken on this massive undertaking at the age of 89!
Dad and I took a rickshaw over to this place where I then sat and visited with him and Russel. After a little while, just when I was getting ready to leave, the doorbell rang and my cousin Veera walked in to see Russel. I spent another half an hour visiting with her until she was ready to leave, while I also took my leave of Dad and Russel. As it was past 6.00 pm by then, I told Dad that I would not be joining him at Mass today.
Back home, I found two missed calls from my cousin Blossom with whom I then sat and chatted for half an hour. She told me that she is going in for surgery too for knee replacements--at the end of July. While talking to her, I gulped down a cup of tea and a chocolate Bourbon biscuit. Then my friend Ashley called and told me that he happened to be in Bandra and wanted to go over to my Dad's to see Russel. He wondered if we could meet up too. Having just returned from Dad's, I told him to carry on there and make his visit and to call me when he was done. Perhaps we could have a drink together later at the Bandra Gym, I thought.
I sat down and reviewed my email messages and began to watch some TV. But when an hour later, I had not heard back from Ashley, I called and he told me that he was having such a good time chatting and catching up with Russel that he decided to skip a visit with me and would go back home instead.
This then left my evening free. I plated my dinner--noodles wth a cup of soup and more mango for dessert (delish!) and watched Mrs. Brown's Boys--a New Year Special that was recorded live in front of a huge stage audience. Sadly, I did not find any of it as funny as the TV episodes have been. In fact, I got rather bored with it and switched the light off at 10.30 to get some sleep.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Dad Gets Dental Implants and my Cousin Veera Visits Russel
Namaste from Bombay!
Life has now gone back to normal for me and I am savoring my freedom to do just as I wish with my day. I was awake at 5.30am and spent about an hour reading my Twitterfeed and the The Times of London on my Ipad, a bit of Origins by Dan Brown before I got a call from Llew. We were on the phone when I heard the bread man--so I paused to get a broon for my breakfast which I ate with spreads and coffee while watching short videos about touring Oxford on You Tube.
I then got down to my laptop and spent about an hour on it as I attended to email correspondence and reviewed my Acknowledgements page and sent out my Dedication note to my publishers. Since my forthcoming book is a memoir based on the year I spent in London, ten years ago, I have decided to dedicate it to the six women who have offered me accommodation in London over the last ten years that I have lived there in short spurts.
By the time I actually got down to do some transcribing of a past interview, it was about 11.00 am and I worked on it till 1.00 pm after which I needed a stretch and some lunch. Lunch was Valerie's meal of chole and mince with chapati and part of a huge Rajapuri mango which was just fabulously sweet. I had bought it from my fruit man, three days ago and left it to ripen on my widow sill. It is amazing!
Dad Gets His Dental Implants:
Then I took a short nap and woke up in time to go in for a quick shower. I got dressed and went off to Dad's at 3.00 pm as he had a dental appointment at 3.30 pm. It was the final day of his long-drawn out dental implant process--don't even ask where the past three months have gone. I remembered going to see his dentist like it was yesterday to consult about implants. The caps were finally fitted in yesterday. The process took about 45 minutes and, needless to say, Dad looked like a new man after they were fitted. He does not have to worry now about getting them off and putting them in. The dentist called his two junior staff to have a look at them and told me again how incredible it was that Dad still had so much jaw bone at his age. He said that he has so much that he could well donate some! Well, I can only pray that after having braved the long process that has ended up in implants that Dad will have no trouble with them. He has now been called back after 3 weeks for a follow-up appointment so that the dentist can make any tiny adjustments, if need be, and find out how Dad is faring with them. Phew! A Huge Mission Accomplished! And, once again, I am so impressed and inspired by my Dad who has taken on this massive undertaking at the age of 89!
Dad and I took a rickshaw over to this place where I then sat and visited with him and Russel. After a little while, just when I was getting ready to leave, the doorbell rang and my cousin Veera walked in to see Russel. I spent another half an hour visiting with her until she was ready to leave, while I also took my leave of Dad and Russel. As it was past 6.00 pm by then, I told Dad that I would not be joining him at Mass today.
Back home, I found two missed calls from my cousin Blossom with whom I then sat and chatted for half an hour. She told me that she is going in for surgery too for knee replacements--at the end of July. While talking to her, I gulped down a cup of tea and a chocolate Bourbon biscuit. Then my friend Ashley called and told me that he happened to be in Bandra and wanted to go over to my Dad's to see Russel. He wondered if we could meet up too. Having just returned from Dad's, I told him to carry on there and make his visit and to call me when he was done. Perhaps we could have a drink together later at the Bandra Gym, I thought.
I sat down and reviewed my email messages and began to watch some TV. But when an hour later, I had not heard back from Ashley, I called and he told me that he was having such a good time chatting and catching up with Russel that he decided to skip a visit with me and would go back home instead.
This then left my evening free. I plated my dinner--noodles wth a cup of soup and more mango for dessert (delish!) and watched Mrs. Brown's Boys--a New Year Special that was recorded live in front of a huge stage audience. Sadly, I did not find any of it as funny as the TV episodes have been. In fact, I got rather bored with it and switched the light off at 10.30 to get some sleep.
Until tomorrow...
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