My mommy is the best!

Dear mumma,

Gratitude is a small word. The feeling in inexplicable. May you continue living your life with vitality, joy, childlike curiosity, wanderlust, love for beautiful things, music, Radha Madhav, Hanuman, sketching, singing, making everyone and everything beautiful around you. 

Your baby forever

As Julie Andrews famously said, let's start at the very beginning. I believe that our story begins way before we are born. Our story has no beginning or end. We are a sum total of our past generations. Their life, their struggles and passions shape us the way we are. We are multi-dimensional in that sense. our roots run very deep, yet we feel any storm can uproot us and carry us with it. A lot many people dig into their family trees and find out about their history. That gives them some kind of perspective or hope.

I'm just beginning on this journey of self-discovery and my first stop is my parents. The humans who brought me to this earth, who gave me a beautiful life, unconditional love, a name, a secure home.

I want to begin with the person who gave my soul a portal to be born on this realm. Why did she choose me, why did I choose her? What's our backstory? I may never know in this lifetime. But what I know is that I chose to be loved and cherished, cared for and celebrated by my mother. She's my anchor, my lifeline. Someone who has the magical ability to instill life and joy in me even when I lose every will to move forward. I wish I had the courage that you have, mumma. 

I always thought that all mothers are like my mother, fierce, loving, protective. But my very naive notion was broken by some personal experiences and examples. I count my blessings every day and pray that I become a mother like my mother. And this is not what I started feeling after becoming a mother myself. I've had this feeling since my childhood. I remember writing in my mom's birthday cards that I want to be a mom like my mom. I knew that me and my brother were blessed. 

I'm still figuring out my life at 40. But my mommy keeps inspiring me, standing like a rock with me, come what may. 

Life on a mulberry farm Part 2 "What's cooking"

Beginning of every month mummy papa would go to town to get groceries. This would mean bhai and I could just freak out. This time, he asked me if I can make some halwa. I was ready to cook up a storm in the kitchen and readily agreed. I had just recently started cooking lessons with my unwilling mummy who thought I was too young to be around fire and sharp objects. But my fascination for cooking was not be contained. 

This was just the right opportunity for me to showcase my culinary skills. It was another story that I didn't know how to make halwa or anything for that matter. I had helped mummy in the kitchen and had seen her making different dishes. And this I thought qualification and experience enough to create a masterpiece of my own. I was absolutely confident that I would be able to recreate mummy's halwa!

I confidently went inside the kitchen and asked Sharad,"you want aate ka halwa or suji halwa?" "I love aate wala," came the prompt reply. I took out a cup of wholewheat flour from the big steel container. I had seen mother doing that. I switched on the gas and put a wok on the flame. Then I added the flour and started roasting it. I added some sugar and water and started cooking it. I kept cooking but the halwa didn't seem the right consistency, when suddenly I remembered that I forgot putting ghee. I quickly found the small steel container of ghee and put some spoonfuls in my halwa and tried to mix vigorously. 

My right hand was tired of mixing. I called bhai for help, who promptly jumped in and started mixing with full force till it got together and started resembling mother's halwa.

There it was, the yummy, sticky and hot halwa. I divided it in two equal portions and served it in plates. For someone who knows cooking, it might not be the best but for the little sister and brother, it was the yummiest. Sharad praised it to skies, "It's yummy, Shachi! When did you learn?" I was on top of the world and thought to myself, cooking is so much fun! 

By the time we finished eating and watching TV, it was almost time for parents to come back. "We must clean the dishes, otherwise mummy will come to know." Mother's strict instructions were not to switch on the gas flame. Sharad offered to do the dishes as I had done the cooking. The dishes were squeaky clean as immediately after washing them, he also wiped them dry and kept them in their original place. The kitchen looked untouched with everything in place. We did a thorough inspection and were quite satisfied. 

Mummy papa came back after sometime and also brought some treats for me and bhai. As soon as mummy entered, she said, "where is the nice smell coming from?" We got worried. Mummy went inside the kitchen and we followed her quietly. Mummy looked inside the kitchen, turned around and with a big smile said, "next time, save some for me". 

Life on a mulberry farm Part 1

Year: 1988 or 87 or 89

Location: A small mulberry farm in a little village nestled in the beautiful Shivalik foothills somewhere in Himachal Pradesh. 

Nearest town/school: 19 kms away. 

Sources of entertainment: Pet and wild animals/reptiles/eating mulberries/climbing trees/animated neighbours/tubewell/doordarshan on a black and white television...

'Snake, snake! It's chasing me,' I was screaming at the top of my voice as I ran around the house, dressed in my frilly pink night suit and slippers. And following me closely was Silky, my white spitz. Both running for life, jumping and yelping!

It was Sunday early morning, mummy papa and my older brother were fast asleep and I was busy with my morning adventures. Sharad was the first to hear the screaming. He quickly woke up mummy papa and they all came running out: mom adjusting her gown, dad with one slipper on, and bhai with his disheveled hair and 'ab kya ho gaya' look. And what they find is me with an expression of shock, pointing towards a very small dead snake on the front verandah steps! Ants were already doing their job and Silky was barking with full force at the poor dead creature.

'Beta ye to mara hua hai,' said Papa taking me close to see for myself that the snake was actually dead. 'But if it was alive it would've followed me na,'  I protested, with a serious/scared face. 'Who told you,' asked papa while picking me in his arms. Spotting wild reptiles of all shapes and sizes was a routine affair in our neighbourhood. Silky, who all this while was just following me, started jumping and yelping, wanting to join me. She always did that when papa picked me up. 'Snakes don't follow you, infact if you don't disturb or trouble them, they don't harm also, 'continued Papa, trying to comfort me. 'And, not all of them are poisonous, buddhu,' added bhai in his self-assured style. "How many times do I tell you to not venture out alone," said Mummy finally after watching the entire scene, adding, "who's going to remove this thing from the steps now?" 

Hearing all the commotion and screaming, our only neighbours, the extended Roy family also came out hurriedly. The younger lot, Binu, Bina, Raju, were the most excited to see something eventful first thing in the morning. Little Sonu sitting on her mother's waist was busy sucking her thumb, oblivious to the chaos. Seema, the youngest of the eldest three adored me, so she was genuinely concerned and came straight to me to see if her little doll was alright. I was happy with the attention and described in great animation my tryst with a mighty snake.

'What happened, a snake bit Shachi?' asked Mrs. Roy. 'No, no,' said mother. 'She just got scared looking at one. 'Oh!', the unanimous expression of the Roy family was of disappointment. Events like these provided some excitement to the sleepy little farm, where the only source of entertainment was Doordarshan and the animated Roy family considering their versatility of age, gender and interests!

Mr. Roy didn't bother to come out as his family was well represented plus morning riyaz was sacred to him. What it did to the lesser mortals is another story.

As soon as the first member of the Roy household entered the house and must've informed Mr. Roy of the non-situation, he took out his harmonium and straightaway hit the high note. Back in their house, Bhai and I joined him with full force and animation, with mummy shushing us lest Mr. Roy hears us.

This was just the start of an eventful day at our sleepy little mulberry farm.