Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Bombay
A Fairly Relaxing Day and a Lovely Dinner at the CCI with New Friends
Namaste from Bombay!
I had a pretty relaxing day today--so relaxing that with a couple of hours of being free-ish, I actually did not quite know what to do with my time.
Awaking at 4.30 am, I began tossing, turning, worrying, brooding...this seems to be the pattern of my days for the moment. I finally decided to pull out my iPad and continued reading my book. But by 6.30 am, my eyes were closing again--so I put the iPad down and went back to sleep. And I slept till almost 8.00 am. I feel as if I am joining my neighbors in their Ramadan fasting!
I ate a paratha and cutlets (spread with a lot of HP brown sauce!--Yum!) with coffee for breakfast as I am trying to finish up all the food in my fridge before I get Valerie's meal again tomorrow.
Then, I sat down and edited a keynote lecture I gave at the University of Nagpur and after spellchecking and revising it thoroughly for footnotes and other minor matters, I sent it off to the Editor. I received an acknowledgement right away. Nest, I sent off my finalized manuscript of my forthcoming creative non-fictional memoir to my editor at Hamilton Books in Maryland. With this, my initial work on my book is complete. I now need to wait and see where I go with this publication--fingers crossed!
By this time, it was about 11.00 am and I decided to go off to pay electricity bills for Dad and myself. It used to be so easy to do it online--but something has gone wrong with the Adani program I use and it is no longer allowing me to make credit card payments online. Thankfully, the Punjab National Bank that accepts payments on behalf of Adani, is only a ten-minute walk away from my studio--so off I went!
That done (and it takes barely minutes), I walked to St. Anne's Church at Pali Hill to pick up the petitions for Dad--he reads them out in church every week at the Novena. I had to ask Joe for his assistance as the church was locked but the watchman (at Joe's orders) opened it up for me in minutes, I was able to get hold of the petitions and walked to Dad's place to hand them over to him. I also visited with him and Russel for almost an hour and then, when it was time for their lunch, I left, bought some limes from the vegetable vendor, a box of Bagry's muesli from our grocer and then got home for my own lunch. I finished up the last of my chicken curry, white pumpkin and lentils and one chapati while continuing to watch The Flowers. It is one of those dark comedies that the playwrights of the Theater of the Absurd might have penned. Wonderful acting although the plot and sub-plots are bizarre.
That was when it occurred to me that I had a free-ish afternoon. Now, of course, I could have transcribed one of the eight interviews left that I still have to do (after loss of my computer files), but I decided to do that tomorrow. Instead I wondered if I should read? Watch TV? Do my Nails? Well, workaholic Me decided that day time was too precious--so I whipped out a chapter from an anthology that the theater critic Shanta Gokhale had couriered to me, a few days ago, and began to read it. I found it super-enlightening. It is amazing how much stuff people send you or how helpfully they refer you to other sources to enable you to go further in your research. That done, I had a call from Dad to tell me that his phone was not working--neither his land line nor his mobile. He gave me the number that would allow me to make a compliant, but it seemed to me that the entire Bandra network was down and I could not get through to the folks with whom I could lodge a complaint.
It was time for a shower and for deciding what I would wear for the dinner to which I had been invited this evening. My new friend Jeevan (whom I had met at a party to which I had been invited by my Connecticut-based friend Angie, a couple of months ago) wanted me to meet his wife, Liz (who was not at the party). It turned out to be a lovely evening with the two of them and their friend Nalini. I took a regular cab as the collapsing of the telephone network in Bandra made it impossible for my Uber driver to be contacted. The cab took me on the Bandra Sea Link in exactly ten minutes to their place in Worli--what a boon that Sea Link is!
At their place on the Worli Sea Face with a full view of the mighty Arabian Sea at their feet, I had a shandy--in this kind of muggy weather, it is the best drink--no wonder Rajwallahs invented it! Then, we were in their car and zipping off to the Cricket Club of India--I have lost count of the number of times I have been invited to meals here by sundry folks--and it is always a pleasure. This time, we were seated in the upstairs Polly Umrigar Lounge (air-conditioned, mercifully) and gazing at two huge murals by the one and only M.F. Hussain, India's Picasso, that depicted cricketers on the Brabourne Stadium pitch (on which the Club was created).
Nalini joined us before long down as we sat down to drinks--I had a G and T with delightful nibbles--Asparagus Mousse with crackers (fab) and Fried Stuffed Mushrooms (they were incredibly good). I have never had mushrooms deep-fried before (Believe me, these were astonishing and I had two big ones).
And then, we ordered and decided to go with Continental Food--about which I was so excited as I have had really too much chapatis and curry for so long that I could not wait to sink my teeth into a good pasta. We ordered Prawns Normandy (super delicious) which I had over bowtie pasta and Ham and Cheese Stuffed Crepes which were delectable. Dessert was mango cake and orange and nougat cake which we all shared. How great a meal was that???
More importantly, conversation was so much fun as we all discovered so many common connections--I guess it is inevitable that when Indians get together, they will find some connection with somebody they know who is also known to someone else. And so it went on. We discovered that Nalini and I graduated from the same high school. We also discovered that so many of the folks I knew during my high school and college years (and with whom I completely lost touch after my emigration to the US), are people they know well.
After dinner, Liz (who hadn't had a drink at all), drove and kindly dropped me right back to my studio--which was indeed very kind of her. I was home by 11.00 pm by which stage I was really sleepy and ready to drop off after what had been a really relaxing day--I so needed one like it after what has been a few really crummy ones for me.
Until tomorrow...
Showing posts with label Cricket Club of India. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cricket Club of India. Show all posts
Wednesday, May 15, 2019
Saturday, April 6, 2019
Visiting Another Orthopedist, Tea with Professor Friends at Bombay Gymkhana and Dinner with Friends at the CCI
Friday, April 5, 2019
Bombay
Visiting Another Orthopedist, Tea with Professor Friends at Bombay Gymkhana and Dinner with Friends at the CCI
Namaste from Bombay!
Today was another long and very productive day! As summer sets in, I am battling the heat with baseball cap, glares and my little portable fan that works on a digital battery--my Rs. 150 buy from the roadside at Crawford Market! It is making my outdoor work quite pleasant indeed despite the uncomfortable weather.
Celebrating Rohit's Birthday:
So my day began with my blog post and my breakfast--muesli and coffee. I was just sitting down to transcribe one of my interviews when Dad called to tell me that it happened to be the birthday of his Man Friday Rohit and that Dad only got to know about it that morning. As Rohit had requested Dad to buy him a cake (for which he offered to pay), Dad decided to make a small ritual out of the cake-cutting by asking Rohit if he had any friends he would like to invite. He suggested a couple of his pals but only one of them could make it. Dad and I had a doctor's appointment at 1.30 and I was busy in the evening. So we could only make his birthday special at about noon.
Accordingly I showered, went out to Hersch's Bakery and bought mutton patties (forgetting that it was a Friday in Lent!) and wafers and then walked to Venus Bakery to buy him a Black Forest Cake--all of which were Dad's treats. With the goodies in my possession, I took a rick to Dad's and when his friend Priya arrived, in the present of Dad, Russel,myself and Meena, the maid who comes to do the domestic work, we sang for Rohit as he cut his cake and I served out the goodies so that we made it into a mini-party! Of course, he was quite delighted by the fuss we made of him and the cash gift I gave him and with that, Dad and I left and went to the doctor.
Seeing the Orthopedist at Lilavati Hospital:
Lilavati Hospital is one of the finest medical institutions in Bombay and we are lucky to have it close by in Bandra. Dad and I took a rick there and made our 1.30 pm appointment. We were going for a second opinion as we wanted to confirm that the rod insertion surgery to fuse Russel's knee bones might be the best way to proceed. And that was basically exactly what this physician Dr. Shridhar Archik told us too. He did recommend a few (very expensive) blood tests and new x-rays because he wants to confirm that Russel's fractured bones have really healed well before any further surgeries are carried out. Dad and I left feeling very happy with our visit (because it confirmed basically what we had been told by the other doctor, Harish Bhende).
Leaving Lilavati in a rick, we stopped off at Holy Family Hospital so that Dad could go to the Lab and ask for the technicians to be sent home to carry out the blood tests and the X-rays that the doctor has ordered. These tests are, by no means, cheap--so we do hope that we will obtain more clarity on the subject and will be able to take better informed decisions, going forward, for Russel.
I jumped off the rickshaw at my place and had my lunch: curd curry (kadhi), beans with a chapati--as it was Friday in Lent and I was off meat. I also ate my first Alphonso mango (which I picked up a couple of days ago)--it was very good indeed!
I just about finished the transcribing of the interview that I had begun doing when it was time for me to get dressed for my next appointment in the city. I was invited to join in a Tea in honor of Meher Toorkey, a friend who is visiting from London and whom I had met a few days ago at a luncheon at the Yacht Club hosted by my friend Kamal. The tea was hosted by one of my former professors from Elphinstone College, Dr. Shireen Vakil (who has, for the past 30 odd years also been a very dear friend of mine).
Off for Tea:
I hopped into a bus and bought a new monthly pass for myself at the Bandra Train station. Then in the train, I made my way to Churchgate but took a cab for the short distance to the Bombay Gymkhana as walking would have made me very late.
My friends were already there when I arrived. Apart from Shireen, there was Dr. Shakuntala Bharvani as well as Dr. Soonu Kapadia, Meher, of course and a person I was meeting for the first time, Soonu Taraporewala, who once used to be a librarian at the British Council Library--I can still remember her very clearly serving me when I used to be an undergrad student of English and the British Council used to be at Sachivalaya behind the LIC building. In fact, I went out yesterday looking for it and once I reached its immediate vicinity, I was unable to pinpoint the exact building in which it was--I believe somewhere on the fifth floor--gosh all this was in 1976!--so you can just imagine how long ago it was!
Tea was a delightful affair with a range of delicious eats: chili cheese toast, mushroom toast (so good!), idli sambhar, vegetable samosas. I had a fresh lime soda which is the most refreshing thing you can have in the humid stickiness of Bombay weather at this time of year. We caught up on a whole host of things. Sadly, my Ph.D. mentor Dr. Vrinda Nabar was not around as she had taken ill--I was so looking forward to meeting her as we met only very briefly at the Elphinstone College Reunion in November and I am very keen to spend some more time with her before I leave. Our friend Dr. G (Firdaus) was very much missed but he has scooted off for two months' holiday in Europe (the lucky sod!) and will be following the opera route through Covent Garden in London, La Scala in Milan, Italy, and then Berlin in Germany! I am already missing his company here in Bombay.
One never knows where time goes when you're having fun, reminiscing about old times and folks who have passed away, lovely people we once knew who are now ailing, plans we'd once made together and friends we had in common. By 6.15 pm, however, the lovely little tea party broke up and we went our separate ways. Shireen, Shakun and Soonu K. went off in a cab and I hopped into another cab with Meher (who is a trained concert pianist in London) and Soonu T. who were off to the NCPA to attend a concert being given by two pianists. They actually had an extra ticket and asked if I wanted to join them. Had I nothing else to do, I would have gone. But I had dinner plans myself with more friends--this time at the Cricket Club of India--and so they offered to drop me there.
Dinner with Aban and Rusi at the CCI:
So it turned out that I spent the entire evening in the company of a whole bunch of Parsis--all close friends of mine and very lovable people indeed.
I was early and so sat and played with my phone in the main lobby of the club overlooking the iconic Brabourne Stadium--I have been coming to this place far more often that I had every expected. My Friend Aban Davar was a fellow-Professor at Jai Hind College (where she had taught French and I had taught English) three decades ago. She still teaches French at the Alliance Francaise de Bombay and does a lot of interpretation and translation work for French corporations in Bombay. She speaks French far better than many French people I know and I have always been in awe of her abilities. Her husband Rusi, a chartered accountant by profession, is a wonderfully interesting person and in the many times we have met in Bombay and in the States (they have been our house guests in Southport, Connecticut), we've always had fun.
So Aban joined me when her meeting upstairs was done and together we sat on the lawns and shot the breeze until the dining room opened at 8.00 pm for dinner. Russia joined us very shortly and since it was a Friday and there was the Fish and Chips special on the menu, both Rusi and I decided to have the prix fixe menu: we started with clear Vegetable soup, went on to Beetroot Salad, then ate the Fish and Chips with Tartar Sauce and ended with Praline Pudding. Of course, although the food was good, the main focus was the catching up with did as we talked about Aban's work, Rusi's health, their upcoming trip to Eastern Europe--they are also intrepid travelers--and our mutual interests in books and TV shows (Rusi is a voracious reader).
At 9.30, they dropped me off to Churchgate station from where I took a fast train and was in Bandra in 20 minutes. The bus came along in about 10 minutes and by 10.30 pm I was home and very sleepy. It did not take me long to merely brush and floss my teeth, take my medication and get straight into bed after what had been another incredibly enjoyable day!
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Visiting Another Orthopedist, Tea with Professor Friends at Bombay Gymkhana and Dinner with Friends at the CCI
Namaste from Bombay!
Today was another long and very productive day! As summer sets in, I am battling the heat with baseball cap, glares and my little portable fan that works on a digital battery--my Rs. 150 buy from the roadside at Crawford Market! It is making my outdoor work quite pleasant indeed despite the uncomfortable weather.
Celebrating Rohit's Birthday:
So my day began with my blog post and my breakfast--muesli and coffee. I was just sitting down to transcribe one of my interviews when Dad called to tell me that it happened to be the birthday of his Man Friday Rohit and that Dad only got to know about it that morning. As Rohit had requested Dad to buy him a cake (for which he offered to pay), Dad decided to make a small ritual out of the cake-cutting by asking Rohit if he had any friends he would like to invite. He suggested a couple of his pals but only one of them could make it. Dad and I had a doctor's appointment at 1.30 and I was busy in the evening. So we could only make his birthday special at about noon.
Accordingly I showered, went out to Hersch's Bakery and bought mutton patties (forgetting that it was a Friday in Lent!) and wafers and then walked to Venus Bakery to buy him a Black Forest Cake--all of which were Dad's treats. With the goodies in my possession, I took a rick to Dad's and when his friend Priya arrived, in the present of Dad, Russel,myself and Meena, the maid who comes to do the domestic work, we sang for Rohit as he cut his cake and I served out the goodies so that we made it into a mini-party! Of course, he was quite delighted by the fuss we made of him and the cash gift I gave him and with that, Dad and I left and went to the doctor.
Seeing the Orthopedist at Lilavati Hospital:
Lilavati Hospital is one of the finest medical institutions in Bombay and we are lucky to have it close by in Bandra. Dad and I took a rick there and made our 1.30 pm appointment. We were going for a second opinion as we wanted to confirm that the rod insertion surgery to fuse Russel's knee bones might be the best way to proceed. And that was basically exactly what this physician Dr. Shridhar Archik told us too. He did recommend a few (very expensive) blood tests and new x-rays because he wants to confirm that Russel's fractured bones have really healed well before any further surgeries are carried out. Dad and I left feeling very happy with our visit (because it confirmed basically what we had been told by the other doctor, Harish Bhende).
Leaving Lilavati in a rick, we stopped off at Holy Family Hospital so that Dad could go to the Lab and ask for the technicians to be sent home to carry out the blood tests and the X-rays that the doctor has ordered. These tests are, by no means, cheap--so we do hope that we will obtain more clarity on the subject and will be able to take better informed decisions, going forward, for Russel.
I jumped off the rickshaw at my place and had my lunch: curd curry (kadhi), beans with a chapati--as it was Friday in Lent and I was off meat. I also ate my first Alphonso mango (which I picked up a couple of days ago)--it was very good indeed!
I just about finished the transcribing of the interview that I had begun doing when it was time for me to get dressed for my next appointment in the city. I was invited to join in a Tea in honor of Meher Toorkey, a friend who is visiting from London and whom I had met a few days ago at a luncheon at the Yacht Club hosted by my friend Kamal. The tea was hosted by one of my former professors from Elphinstone College, Dr. Shireen Vakil (who has, for the past 30 odd years also been a very dear friend of mine).
Off for Tea:
I hopped into a bus and bought a new monthly pass for myself at the Bandra Train station. Then in the train, I made my way to Churchgate but took a cab for the short distance to the Bombay Gymkhana as walking would have made me very late.
My friends were already there when I arrived. Apart from Shireen, there was Dr. Shakuntala Bharvani as well as Dr. Soonu Kapadia, Meher, of course and a person I was meeting for the first time, Soonu Taraporewala, who once used to be a librarian at the British Council Library--I can still remember her very clearly serving me when I used to be an undergrad student of English and the British Council used to be at Sachivalaya behind the LIC building. In fact, I went out yesterday looking for it and once I reached its immediate vicinity, I was unable to pinpoint the exact building in which it was--I believe somewhere on the fifth floor--gosh all this was in 1976!--so you can just imagine how long ago it was!
Tea was a delightful affair with a range of delicious eats: chili cheese toast, mushroom toast (so good!), idli sambhar, vegetable samosas. I had a fresh lime soda which is the most refreshing thing you can have in the humid stickiness of Bombay weather at this time of year. We caught up on a whole host of things. Sadly, my Ph.D. mentor Dr. Vrinda Nabar was not around as she had taken ill--I was so looking forward to meeting her as we met only very briefly at the Elphinstone College Reunion in November and I am very keen to spend some more time with her before I leave. Our friend Dr. G (Firdaus) was very much missed but he has scooted off for two months' holiday in Europe (the lucky sod!) and will be following the opera route through Covent Garden in London, La Scala in Milan, Italy, and then Berlin in Germany! I am already missing his company here in Bombay.
One never knows where time goes when you're having fun, reminiscing about old times and folks who have passed away, lovely people we once knew who are now ailing, plans we'd once made together and friends we had in common. By 6.15 pm, however, the lovely little tea party broke up and we went our separate ways. Shireen, Shakun and Soonu K. went off in a cab and I hopped into another cab with Meher (who is a trained concert pianist in London) and Soonu T. who were off to the NCPA to attend a concert being given by two pianists. They actually had an extra ticket and asked if I wanted to join them. Had I nothing else to do, I would have gone. But I had dinner plans myself with more friends--this time at the Cricket Club of India--and so they offered to drop me there.
Dinner with Aban and Rusi at the CCI:
So it turned out that I spent the entire evening in the company of a whole bunch of Parsis--all close friends of mine and very lovable people indeed.
I was early and so sat and played with my phone in the main lobby of the club overlooking the iconic Brabourne Stadium--I have been coming to this place far more often that I had every expected. My Friend Aban Davar was a fellow-Professor at Jai Hind College (where she had taught French and I had taught English) three decades ago. She still teaches French at the Alliance Francaise de Bombay and does a lot of interpretation and translation work for French corporations in Bombay. She speaks French far better than many French people I know and I have always been in awe of her abilities. Her husband Rusi, a chartered accountant by profession, is a wonderfully interesting person and in the many times we have met in Bombay and in the States (they have been our house guests in Southport, Connecticut), we've always had fun.
So Aban joined me when her meeting upstairs was done and together we sat on the lawns and shot the breeze until the dining room opened at 8.00 pm for dinner. Russia joined us very shortly and since it was a Friday and there was the Fish and Chips special on the menu, both Rusi and I decided to have the prix fixe menu: we started with clear Vegetable soup, went on to Beetroot Salad, then ate the Fish and Chips with Tartar Sauce and ended with Praline Pudding. Of course, although the food was good, the main focus was the catching up with did as we talked about Aban's work, Rusi's health, their upcoming trip to Eastern Europe--they are also intrepid travelers--and our mutual interests in books and TV shows (Rusi is a voracious reader).
At 9.30, they dropped me off to Churchgate station from where I took a fast train and was in Bandra in 20 minutes. The bus came along in about 10 minutes and by 10.30 pm I was home and very sleepy. It did not take me long to merely brush and floss my teeth, take my medication and get straight into bed after what had been another incredibly enjoyable day!
Until tomorrow...
Friday, March 29, 2019
Extraordinary Day! Visit to Jai Hind College and Interviews with Two Icons of Western Performing Arts in Bombay!
Thursday, March 28, 2019
Bombay
Extraordinary Day! Visit to Jai Hind College and Interviews with Two Icons of Western Performing Arts in Bombay!
Namaste from Bombay!
Once in a way you have the kind of day that so awes you by its special-ness that it quite takes your breath away. Today was one such!
My sleep patterns are out of whack as mosquitoes keep me awake far longer than I want--it is always just one pesky creature that ruins my nights. I have no staying power beyond 9.30 pm, so succumb, then awake at Silly O clock, get back to work, transcribe an interview and then fall asleep again at 5.00 am only to awake at 7.00 am! Hopefully, things will fall back on even keel again soon.
That said, I had my breakfast of a broon, spreads and coffee--the idea is to try and finish up all my pantry supplies (cream cheese, marmalade, sauces, etc.) before I am faced with my date of departure! I blogged and then I jumped into a shower to get ready for my 11.00 am appointment in the city--once again at the iconic Brabourne Stadium on whose grounds the Cricket Club of India is located--for my interview with Burjor Patel. As it turned out, just when I was leaving, I received a call from him, postponing it by half an hour. This gave me a chance to get the transcription of one more interview finished before I left my house, took a bus and a train and then walked to get to the venue at exactly the appointed hour.
An Interview with Burjor Patel:
Burjor Patel was in the lobby of the Club when I arrived. We made ourselves comfortable in The Idhar Room--an air-conditioned coffee shop, thankfully, where we settled down with fresh lemonade sodas and a plate of chilli cheese toast and began the interview. He had come beautifully prepared with notes on a small piece of paper to which he kept referring as the talk marched on. I found him absolutely delightful--a man of old-world customs and manners who offered hospitality, many an unknown anecdote, dates and places with enviable accuracy and then offered to send me a copy of his memoirs that, so far, have been purely for private circulation. I was simply charmed. There was a lot to talk about as he (and I) walked down Memory Lane with him rattling off the names of plays I saw and reviewed during my Theater Critic days in the Bombay press and name of actors who were once household names in the city--sadly, quite a few have left us and the ones who are left behind are the only receptacles of priceless memories that they are quite happy to share.
We spent more than an hour together after which I decided, on impulse, since I was so close, to visit Jai Hind College. I walked behind the bleachers and remembered my school days when I used to enter and leave this stadium (for our annual school sports) through this path as I emerged on to the main road facing the Ambassador Hotel Then, on another impulse, I stepped into K. Rustom's Ice-Cream factory, and purely by custom, decided to buy myself a Kesar Pista ice-cream sandwich (which would have to suffice as my lunch). That consumed, I walked along the Marine Drive Seaface to A Road where Jai Hind College is located.
A Visit to my Former Stomping Ground:
My academic career had started more than three decades ago at Jai Hind College, where I spent eight of the most fulfilling years of my life as a college Professor in the Department of English. As someone who was hired to teach in degree college within days of earning my Master's degree in English, I was way younger than all my colleagues, all of whom had been my own professors in the Master's Program. Whether it was my youthfulness--I was 21 but I looked about 13--is hard to tell...what I do know is that I was taken under the wing of everyone: from professors to administrators to lift men and canteen wait staff. I grew in the presence of these folks in ways that are hard to imagine or describe. The College offered me immeasurable opportunities--all of which I grabbed with both hands as I grew daily as a research-oriented academic.
It was only fitting, therefore, that I make one visit to this place before my Fulbright stint in India ended. I am not sure what I expected to find...but in the end, I felt as bit like I had done, a few years ago, when I had returned to Exeter College, Oxford, on a frigid winter's evening and seated myself in its Quadrangle as dusk fell over the fabled city of dreaming spires and the tower clock tolled the twilight hours. I was filled with such bitter-sweet nostalgia: joy at the memories of those who had made my life there so memorably wonderful and sadness at the fact that they were no longer there to savor time or keep me company.
I felt the same bitter-sweetness when I entered the premises at Jai Hind College. There was the weird feeling of being in a familiar spot but being a complete stranger in it. There was not one familiar face to be seen--not among the admin staff in the office down below or in the Faculty room on the third floor to which I returned and where I had spent so many gratifying hours as I prepped for my next lecture, shot the breeze with my colleagues or consulted with students. Not having our own offices (no Indian faculty do), the Faculty Common Room was where so much interactions occurred. But when I got there, although it was packed with women (mainly), not a single person looked even vaguely familiar to me. Every single person from my time has retired--which made realize that were I still a professor here, I'd be facing retirement too.
Being there, I decided to do the Grand Tour of the main building (with which I was more familiar)--I scoured the library, poked my head into the classrooms in which I had once taught, skimmed through the labs, etc. and finding nothing to rekindle in me a sense of joyful reunion, I left. Again being in the space, I then popped into the new building at the back (where a very modest Junior college used to be, in my time) and found a glass and concrete tower that is fully air-conditioned. I took the elevator to the seventh floor and then worked my way downstairs on foot, passing by labs, computer labs, classrooms, common room areas, etc. But none of the spaces evoked in me more than just a passing curiosity.
Back on the ground floor, I took a few pictures and left. I did not even visit the canteen as that was never a space in which I had hung out as a faculty member. Yes, thirty years is half a lifetime and, of course, I did expect to see change. What I did not expect to experience were the conflicting emotions with which I had to deal--once again, I realize that tied up with all these sentiments was one of sadness and nostalgia at the passing away of youth. I will always be grateful to this institution for what it meant to me and what it did for me--it was a launching pad into an academic career that took me to Oxford and then to NYU: an academic could truly not ask for a better, more gratifying career.
Back Home and on to the Next Interview:
I had time, once I took the train home, for my 2-minute power nap. When I awoke, I realized I had about an hour to spare before I would need to set off for my next appointment. I dressed again and walked to the State Bank of India where I had not yet resolved the issue of resetting my internet banking login password. Bhavya, the lovely assistant, helped me without any difficulty and about a half hour later, my job was done. I shudder to think of all the hoops through which I will now need to jump as I re-set or change passwords everywhere that they are needed--as the loss of my Documents took my entire saved password file with it.
After leaving the bank, I walked to Dad's to leave some money behind for him. I had sat on the phone earlier and found out about a reservation at Lord's Hotel in Matheran where my friend Nafisa and I shall be spending two days next month. One of the items on my Bucket List for Bombay was a return to this venue as I had very fond memories of my time spent there when I was nine years old on a large extended family holiday in which about 35 member of my Dad's family had taken a trip together and spent a month one summer in the bucolic Western Ghats surrounded by misty hills, mango groves and monkeys. Nafisa was game to go with me and so we have zeroed in on dates that shall take us off to the nostalgic pathways of one of my childhood summers. The money I left for Dad's represents was our hotel tariff which will be picked up by someone tomorrow morning--a rep from the Bombay office of Lord's Hotel which is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in the place.
I spent about a half hour with Dad and Russel but which point I was starving and ended up eating two chocolate biscuits and a bowl of papaya. Then, at 5.00 pm, I left Dad's and took a rick to my next appointment: an interview with Louiz Banks, jazz musician and composer.
An Interview with the One and Only Louiz Banks:
Louiz Banks is probably India's best-known jazz pianist and one of the most prolific composers of advertising jingles of all time--that and, of course, innovative experiments in jazz. He is managed today by his son, Neil, with whom I have been in touch to schedule this appointment. His lovely cottage-like home on the ground floor of a building in Santa Cruz that includes a full recording studio was easily reached by rickshaw in about twenty minutes. Once in the presence of the master, I prepared to be awed.
And awed I was! The musician just swept me off my feet with his vivid stroll down Memory Lane. It seems he might never have done such a lengthy or extensive interview before because he waxed nostalgic about everything--his life and early performing days in Nepal, his years among the jazz greats of Calcutta, his years spent composing advertising jingles that made him a millionaire, his tours in the West where, among other Jazz greats, he played with Dizzy Gillespie. I was simply hooked from the moment he opened his mouth speak. I cannot thank the Lord enough for giving me these opportunities to meet with these men and women who have punctuated the cultural life of the city of Bombay with so much talent and so many thrills.
As Louiz spoke, I remembered by own days as a passionate explorer of jazz--the new genre to which I first became introduced in my twenties through Jazz Yatra Festivals organized by the late Niranjan Zaveri. That is what is so marvelous about this data-collection in which I am steeped. While it does is allow my 'subjects' a chance to wallow in nostalgia, in doing so they pull me in a for a good long soak too! History and journalism are blending together in the most amazing ways for me as this project continues. What was more was that Louiz posed for me on his own piano and played me a couple of tunes before he presented me with a whole stack of his CD recordings before I left his place. I gave him a hug of gratitude and left with a lump in my throat.
I took a rick home--but skipped church today as I was too late for the 7.00 pm Mass. Back home, and starving, I dived into my dinner--a cup of soup, some dal, chicken curry and okra, and then I switched the TV on and watched some Mary Barry's Quick Cookinshow on You Tube--she happened to be in Rome sampling my favorite cuisine (Italian) and tasting her way to pasta, pizza and pasticceria! I watched until sleep beckoned. I then spoke briefly to Llew before calling it a night.
You would agree that it was a deeply productive day, right?
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
Extraordinary Day! Visit to Jai Hind College and Interviews with Two Icons of Western Performing Arts in Bombay!
Namaste from Bombay!
Once in a way you have the kind of day that so awes you by its special-ness that it quite takes your breath away. Today was one such!
My sleep patterns are out of whack as mosquitoes keep me awake far longer than I want--it is always just one pesky creature that ruins my nights. I have no staying power beyond 9.30 pm, so succumb, then awake at Silly O clock, get back to work, transcribe an interview and then fall asleep again at 5.00 am only to awake at 7.00 am! Hopefully, things will fall back on even keel again soon.
That said, I had my breakfast of a broon, spreads and coffee--the idea is to try and finish up all my pantry supplies (cream cheese, marmalade, sauces, etc.) before I am faced with my date of departure! I blogged and then I jumped into a shower to get ready for my 11.00 am appointment in the city--once again at the iconic Brabourne Stadium on whose grounds the Cricket Club of India is located--for my interview with Burjor Patel. As it turned out, just when I was leaving, I received a call from him, postponing it by half an hour. This gave me a chance to get the transcription of one more interview finished before I left my house, took a bus and a train and then walked to get to the venue at exactly the appointed hour.
An Interview with Burjor Patel:
Burjor Patel was in the lobby of the Club when I arrived. We made ourselves comfortable in The Idhar Room--an air-conditioned coffee shop, thankfully, where we settled down with fresh lemonade sodas and a plate of chilli cheese toast and began the interview. He had come beautifully prepared with notes on a small piece of paper to which he kept referring as the talk marched on. I found him absolutely delightful--a man of old-world customs and manners who offered hospitality, many an unknown anecdote, dates and places with enviable accuracy and then offered to send me a copy of his memoirs that, so far, have been purely for private circulation. I was simply charmed. There was a lot to talk about as he (and I) walked down Memory Lane with him rattling off the names of plays I saw and reviewed during my Theater Critic days in the Bombay press and name of actors who were once household names in the city--sadly, quite a few have left us and the ones who are left behind are the only receptacles of priceless memories that they are quite happy to share.
We spent more than an hour together after which I decided, on impulse, since I was so close, to visit Jai Hind College. I walked behind the bleachers and remembered my school days when I used to enter and leave this stadium (for our annual school sports) through this path as I emerged on to the main road facing the Ambassador Hotel Then, on another impulse, I stepped into K. Rustom's Ice-Cream factory, and purely by custom, decided to buy myself a Kesar Pista ice-cream sandwich (which would have to suffice as my lunch). That consumed, I walked along the Marine Drive Seaface to A Road where Jai Hind College is located.
A Visit to my Former Stomping Ground:
My academic career had started more than three decades ago at Jai Hind College, where I spent eight of the most fulfilling years of my life as a college Professor in the Department of English. As someone who was hired to teach in degree college within days of earning my Master's degree in English, I was way younger than all my colleagues, all of whom had been my own professors in the Master's Program. Whether it was my youthfulness--I was 21 but I looked about 13--is hard to tell...what I do know is that I was taken under the wing of everyone: from professors to administrators to lift men and canteen wait staff. I grew in the presence of these folks in ways that are hard to imagine or describe. The College offered me immeasurable opportunities--all of which I grabbed with both hands as I grew daily as a research-oriented academic.
It was only fitting, therefore, that I make one visit to this place before my Fulbright stint in India ended. I am not sure what I expected to find...but in the end, I felt as bit like I had done, a few years ago, when I had returned to Exeter College, Oxford, on a frigid winter's evening and seated myself in its Quadrangle as dusk fell over the fabled city of dreaming spires and the tower clock tolled the twilight hours. I was filled with such bitter-sweet nostalgia: joy at the memories of those who had made my life there so memorably wonderful and sadness at the fact that they were no longer there to savor time or keep me company.
I felt the same bitter-sweetness when I entered the premises at Jai Hind College. There was the weird feeling of being in a familiar spot but being a complete stranger in it. There was not one familiar face to be seen--not among the admin staff in the office down below or in the Faculty room on the third floor to which I returned and where I had spent so many gratifying hours as I prepped for my next lecture, shot the breeze with my colleagues or consulted with students. Not having our own offices (no Indian faculty do), the Faculty Common Room was where so much interactions occurred. But when I got there, although it was packed with women (mainly), not a single person looked even vaguely familiar to me. Every single person from my time has retired--which made realize that were I still a professor here, I'd be facing retirement too.
Being there, I decided to do the Grand Tour of the main building (with which I was more familiar)--I scoured the library, poked my head into the classrooms in which I had once taught, skimmed through the labs, etc. and finding nothing to rekindle in me a sense of joyful reunion, I left. Again being in the space, I then popped into the new building at the back (where a very modest Junior college used to be, in my time) and found a glass and concrete tower that is fully air-conditioned. I took the elevator to the seventh floor and then worked my way downstairs on foot, passing by labs, computer labs, classrooms, common room areas, etc. But none of the spaces evoked in me more than just a passing curiosity.
Back on the ground floor, I took a few pictures and left. I did not even visit the canteen as that was never a space in which I had hung out as a faculty member. Yes, thirty years is half a lifetime and, of course, I did expect to see change. What I did not expect to experience were the conflicting emotions with which I had to deal--once again, I realize that tied up with all these sentiments was one of sadness and nostalgia at the passing away of youth. I will always be grateful to this institution for what it meant to me and what it did for me--it was a launching pad into an academic career that took me to Oxford and then to NYU: an academic could truly not ask for a better, more gratifying career.
Back Home and on to the Next Interview:
I had time, once I took the train home, for my 2-minute power nap. When I awoke, I realized I had about an hour to spare before I would need to set off for my next appointment. I dressed again and walked to the State Bank of India where I had not yet resolved the issue of resetting my internet banking login password. Bhavya, the lovely assistant, helped me without any difficulty and about a half hour later, my job was done. I shudder to think of all the hoops through which I will now need to jump as I re-set or change passwords everywhere that they are needed--as the loss of my Documents took my entire saved password file with it.
After leaving the bank, I walked to Dad's to leave some money behind for him. I had sat on the phone earlier and found out about a reservation at Lord's Hotel in Matheran where my friend Nafisa and I shall be spending two days next month. One of the items on my Bucket List for Bombay was a return to this venue as I had very fond memories of my time spent there when I was nine years old on a large extended family holiday in which about 35 member of my Dad's family had taken a trip together and spent a month one summer in the bucolic Western Ghats surrounded by misty hills, mango groves and monkeys. Nafisa was game to go with me and so we have zeroed in on dates that shall take us off to the nostalgic pathways of one of my childhood summers. The money I left for Dad's represents was our hotel tariff which will be picked up by someone tomorrow morning--a rep from the Bombay office of Lord's Hotel which is supposed to be one of the nicest hotels in the place.
I spent about a half hour with Dad and Russel but which point I was starving and ended up eating two chocolate biscuits and a bowl of papaya. Then, at 5.00 pm, I left Dad's and took a rick to my next appointment: an interview with Louiz Banks, jazz musician and composer.
An Interview with the One and Only Louiz Banks:
Louiz Banks is probably India's best-known jazz pianist and one of the most prolific composers of advertising jingles of all time--that and, of course, innovative experiments in jazz. He is managed today by his son, Neil, with whom I have been in touch to schedule this appointment. His lovely cottage-like home on the ground floor of a building in Santa Cruz that includes a full recording studio was easily reached by rickshaw in about twenty minutes. Once in the presence of the master, I prepared to be awed.
And awed I was! The musician just swept me off my feet with his vivid stroll down Memory Lane. It seems he might never have done such a lengthy or extensive interview before because he waxed nostalgic about everything--his life and early performing days in Nepal, his years among the jazz greats of Calcutta, his years spent composing advertising jingles that made him a millionaire, his tours in the West where, among other Jazz greats, he played with Dizzy Gillespie. I was simply hooked from the moment he opened his mouth speak. I cannot thank the Lord enough for giving me these opportunities to meet with these men and women who have punctuated the cultural life of the city of Bombay with so much talent and so many thrills.
As Louiz spoke, I remembered by own days as a passionate explorer of jazz--the new genre to which I first became introduced in my twenties through Jazz Yatra Festivals organized by the late Niranjan Zaveri. That is what is so marvelous about this data-collection in which I am steeped. While it does is allow my 'subjects' a chance to wallow in nostalgia, in doing so they pull me in a for a good long soak too! History and journalism are blending together in the most amazing ways for me as this project continues. What was more was that Louiz posed for me on his own piano and played me a couple of tunes before he presented me with a whole stack of his CD recordings before I left his place. I gave him a hug of gratitude and left with a lump in my throat.
I took a rick home--but skipped church today as I was too late for the 7.00 pm Mass. Back home, and starving, I dived into my dinner--a cup of soup, some dal, chicken curry and okra, and then I switched the TV on and watched some Mary Barry's Quick Cookinshow on You Tube--she happened to be in Rome sampling my favorite cuisine (Italian) and tasting her way to pasta, pizza and pasticceria! I watched until sleep beckoned. I then spoke briefly to Llew before calling it a night.
You would agree that it was a deeply productive day, right?
Until tomorrow...
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
More Dental Implants for Dad and Tea with Favorite Former Students in an Iconic Location
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
Bombay
More Dental Implants for Dad and Tea with Favorite Former Students in an Iconic Location
Namaste from Bombay!
The peaceful tenor of the last few days was interrupted (pleasantly!) by the goings-on of today.
So, up at 6.30 am, I blogged (a very short--and boring!--post indeed) before I summoned the breadman, had brekkie of a broon with spreads and coffee and hit the keyboard with a determination One more interview transcribed and I was ready to get to Dad's for our 10.30 am date with the dentist for the second phase of Dad's dental implants--he was getting the lower set ones lodged in today.
Accordingly, we took a rickshaw to Linking Road and while Dad was busy inside, I opened by laptop and actually input yet another interview--go me! This time round, there was more preparedness, less pain, as Dad emerged and the dentist put me through the post-surgery paces. In readiness for Dad's return home, I had ensured that cold liquid food supplies were well stocked: lassi, ice-cream, cold mink, smoothies.
I settled Dad at home, gave him the cold ice compresses which he held to his jaws for twenty minutes, prepared him a mug of cold milk with Complan and was delighted to see that he had no pain at all--unlike last week when he had been in unbearable pain. This was because the dentists gave him a pain killer as we were leaving his office. Also the anesthesia took a much longer time to wear out today than it had done last week when the pain had begun even before we reached home.
At the appointed hour, the top woman Meena arrived and did the daily sweeping and swabbing as Russel asked for his lunch on cue. Dad told me to stay and have lunch at his place--which I did: chole, spinach and fried fish--all very tasty--with an orange for dessert.
By 1.30 with everyone ready to settle down for their afternoon siesta, I took my leave and returned home to transcribe one more interview, take a shower and a short nap. But then, I realized I had to get to my bank as the loss of my Documents have also led to my loss of all my passwords (I had them in a file on my computer) and I can no longer carry out any online banking as I no longer have the passwords.
I got dressed for a visit to the bank and was put through the paces by the officer there. Since I could remember nothing--not my username or my login password or my profile password, the system for regeneration of them all was far more complicated than I had thought. Still, I did whatever I could under the guidance of the officer and was told that an OTP number would be sent to my mobile phone after which I would need to follow the prompts.
Armed with this information, I left the bank and jumped into a bus that took me to the city. Once at Churchgate, I walked alongside the Oval Maidan to get to the Cricket Club of India on the grounds of the iconic Brabourne Stadium where I had a very special date with my favorite former students of Jai Hind College who had majored in English under me about 35 years ago! Wow that does age me and them somewhat!
Tea in an Iconic Location:
The reason for our visit was that one of the members of that Batch of 86, Poonam, who currently lives in Dubai happened to be visiting Bombay briefly and had told us so (on one of our Whatsapp groups). Rashida then took the lead in trying to herd five of us together on the same day and at the same time and we managed eventually to do so when Priti suggested we meet at the CCI Club where she is a member. Soniyaa had to bow out as she was away from Bombay traveling on work. We would miss her sorely as the evening passed by.
An Iconic Location:
I was excited to be at the CCI--where I have been before on past visits to India as a guest of my friends, Aban and Rusi Davar. The CCI is a part of the historic Brabourne Stadium where Bombayites first become introduced to world-class cricket and where some of the greatest names in cricketing history have played. I can still remember the days before TV, when my Dad (a passionate cricket fan) used to have the radio belting out ball-by-ball commentary. The commentator would always begin a broadcast by reminding us that he was coming to us Live from the Brabroune Stadium. After the competitive cricket matches moved to the much larger Wankhede Stadium (which, by the way, I saw very clearly from an aircraft when leaving Bombay for Kerala), the Brabourne was dedicated to school sports teams and their meets. Although I was never an athlete, I did participate in my school march pasts at the end of our annual sports days--and it is on these ground that I have marched, many a time, with the Blue House!
After we were signed in, we scouted around for a suitable venue. It has grown warm very suddenly in Bombay and air-conditoning is now warmly (pun unintended!) welcomed. After settling down with a lemonade soda, sev puri and the speciality of the house, chilli cheese toast, we did the initial catching up as Rashida had not seen Poonam in 35 years! I had been the recipient of Poonam's hospitality on two occasions when I have been in Dubai and Priti meets her regularly at the frequent Sindhi dos to which they are invited.
When the sun fell deeper into the western sky and disappeared behind the grand bleachers of the stadium, Priti suggested we move outdoors and find a table on the stadium grounds. It was a very good idea indeed as we tucked into dahi bata puri, chicken sandwiches and jalebis--warm, sticky and truly delicious--so delicious that a passing crow actually swooped down and helped itself to one! We talked about the goings on of over three decades in an hour as the sun set and twilight descended upon the well-loved stands of my Bombay sporting life. (I remembered our annual school sports at the Brabourne Stadium and as I munched, I remembered that it was upon these very storied lawns that I had participated in House March Pasts).
I heard for the first time that Poonam lives with a mother-in-law afflicted with polio from birth, that Priti's husband had pancreatis while they were on their Silver Wedding cruise in the Caribbean and had to be air-lifted to a hospital in Miami where he fought for his life, and that Rashida has recently become a mother-in-law after having gone through not one, but two, of her son's broken engagements! Needless to say there was a lot of soul-baring and heart-sharing and fun, fun fun...because in the mist of recounting sadness, there was also much joy.
One of the best parts about living in Bombay again after so many years has been the opportunity to catch up with so many segments of my past life and reconnecting with these very special former students has been one of its highlights. It is hard for me to see how these scatter-brained kids of yesteryear to whom I had taught Chaucer, Shakespeare and Keats and with whom I share the unforgettable experience of meeting Mick Jagger and his brother Christopher in the desserts of Jaisalmer in Rajasthan on a college trip, ended up becoming these beautiful, poised, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent women, now in their mid-50s, savoring the lessons that life has taught every single one of us in its own drastically different way. I will always cherish gatherings like this.
At 7.30, Poonam dropped me off to Churchgate station from where I took a train and a bus and got back home. I called Dad twice during the evening to find out that he was doing really well and was coping superbly. He told me not to stop by although I offered to.
Back home, I spoke on the phone to Llew for a very long time before calling it a night. I had promised that I would start reading Priti's gift--her first published book, Out With Lanterns, that she had gifted me when we had met three months ago and I had not turned over a page--so I ended my day by beginning to read her book until I could not keep my eyes open anymore.
Until tomorrow...
Bombay
More Dental Implants for Dad and Tea with Favorite Former Students in an Iconic Location
Namaste from Bombay!
The peaceful tenor of the last few days was interrupted (pleasantly!) by the goings-on of today.
So, up at 6.30 am, I blogged (a very short--and boring!--post indeed) before I summoned the breadman, had brekkie of a broon with spreads and coffee and hit the keyboard with a determination One more interview transcribed and I was ready to get to Dad's for our 10.30 am date with the dentist for the second phase of Dad's dental implants--he was getting the lower set ones lodged in today.
Accordingly, we took a rickshaw to Linking Road and while Dad was busy inside, I opened by laptop and actually input yet another interview--go me! This time round, there was more preparedness, less pain, as Dad emerged and the dentist put me through the post-surgery paces. In readiness for Dad's return home, I had ensured that cold liquid food supplies were well stocked: lassi, ice-cream, cold mink, smoothies.
I settled Dad at home, gave him the cold ice compresses which he held to his jaws for twenty minutes, prepared him a mug of cold milk with Complan and was delighted to see that he had no pain at all--unlike last week when he had been in unbearable pain. This was because the dentists gave him a pain killer as we were leaving his office. Also the anesthesia took a much longer time to wear out today than it had done last week when the pain had begun even before we reached home.
At the appointed hour, the top woman Meena arrived and did the daily sweeping and swabbing as Russel asked for his lunch on cue. Dad told me to stay and have lunch at his place--which I did: chole, spinach and fried fish--all very tasty--with an orange for dessert.
By 1.30 with everyone ready to settle down for their afternoon siesta, I took my leave and returned home to transcribe one more interview, take a shower and a short nap. But then, I realized I had to get to my bank as the loss of my Documents have also led to my loss of all my passwords (I had them in a file on my computer) and I can no longer carry out any online banking as I no longer have the passwords.
I got dressed for a visit to the bank and was put through the paces by the officer there. Since I could remember nothing--not my username or my login password or my profile password, the system for regeneration of them all was far more complicated than I had thought. Still, I did whatever I could under the guidance of the officer and was told that an OTP number would be sent to my mobile phone after which I would need to follow the prompts.
Armed with this information, I left the bank and jumped into a bus that took me to the city. Once at Churchgate, I walked alongside the Oval Maidan to get to the Cricket Club of India on the grounds of the iconic Brabourne Stadium where I had a very special date with my favorite former students of Jai Hind College who had majored in English under me about 35 years ago! Wow that does age me and them somewhat!
Tea in an Iconic Location:
The reason for our visit was that one of the members of that Batch of 86, Poonam, who currently lives in Dubai happened to be visiting Bombay briefly and had told us so (on one of our Whatsapp groups). Rashida then took the lead in trying to herd five of us together on the same day and at the same time and we managed eventually to do so when Priti suggested we meet at the CCI Club where she is a member. Soniyaa had to bow out as she was away from Bombay traveling on work. We would miss her sorely as the evening passed by.
An Iconic Location:
I was excited to be at the CCI--where I have been before on past visits to India as a guest of my friends, Aban and Rusi Davar. The CCI is a part of the historic Brabourne Stadium where Bombayites first become introduced to world-class cricket and where some of the greatest names in cricketing history have played. I can still remember the days before TV, when my Dad (a passionate cricket fan) used to have the radio belting out ball-by-ball commentary. The commentator would always begin a broadcast by reminding us that he was coming to us Live from the Brabroune Stadium. After the competitive cricket matches moved to the much larger Wankhede Stadium (which, by the way, I saw very clearly from an aircraft when leaving Bombay for Kerala), the Brabourne was dedicated to school sports teams and their meets. Although I was never an athlete, I did participate in my school march pasts at the end of our annual sports days--and it is on these ground that I have marched, many a time, with the Blue House!
After we were signed in, we scouted around for a suitable venue. It has grown warm very suddenly in Bombay and air-conditoning is now warmly (pun unintended!) welcomed. After settling down with a lemonade soda, sev puri and the speciality of the house, chilli cheese toast, we did the initial catching up as Rashida had not seen Poonam in 35 years! I had been the recipient of Poonam's hospitality on two occasions when I have been in Dubai and Priti meets her regularly at the frequent Sindhi dos to which they are invited.
When the sun fell deeper into the western sky and disappeared behind the grand bleachers of the stadium, Priti suggested we move outdoors and find a table on the stadium grounds. It was a very good idea indeed as we tucked into dahi bata puri, chicken sandwiches and jalebis--warm, sticky and truly delicious--so delicious that a passing crow actually swooped down and helped itself to one! We talked about the goings on of over three decades in an hour as the sun set and twilight descended upon the well-loved stands of my Bombay sporting life. (I remembered our annual school sports at the Brabourne Stadium and as I munched, I remembered that it was upon these very storied lawns that I had participated in House March Pasts).
I heard for the first time that Poonam lives with a mother-in-law afflicted with polio from birth, that Priti's husband had pancreatis while they were on their Silver Wedding cruise in the Caribbean and had to be air-lifted to a hospital in Miami where he fought for his life, and that Rashida has recently become a mother-in-law after having gone through not one, but two, of her son's broken engagements! Needless to say there was a lot of soul-baring and heart-sharing and fun, fun fun...because in the mist of recounting sadness, there was also much joy.
One of the best parts about living in Bombay again after so many years has been the opportunity to catch up with so many segments of my past life and reconnecting with these very special former students has been one of its highlights. It is hard for me to see how these scatter-brained kids of yesteryear to whom I had taught Chaucer, Shakespeare and Keats and with whom I share the unforgettable experience of meeting Mick Jagger and his brother Christopher in the desserts of Jaisalmer in Rajasthan on a college trip, ended up becoming these beautiful, poised, thoughtful, perceptive and intelligent women, now in their mid-50s, savoring the lessons that life has taught every single one of us in its own drastically different way. I will always cherish gatherings like this.
At 7.30, Poonam dropped me off to Churchgate station from where I took a train and a bus and got back home. I called Dad twice during the evening to find out that he was doing really well and was coping superbly. He told me not to stop by although I offered to.
Back home, I spoke on the phone to Llew for a very long time before calling it a night. I had promised that I would start reading Priti's gift--her first published book, Out With Lanterns, that she had gifted me when we had met three months ago and I had not turned over a page--so I ended my day by beginning to read her book until I could not keep my eyes open anymore.
Until tomorrow...
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