BOMBAY TALKIES - A MIXED FARE

Four successful directors join hands to create a movie as a salute to the centenary year of Indian cinema – a novel idea! Each presents a short story on an aspect of cinema – reminding us of those Doordarshan days when we relished ‘Ek kahani’ and its ilk! There’s no question of not liking the movie in toto – there may be mixed reactions to one or the other story!

Karan Johar’s theme – as usual is bold and ‘hatke’ – in fact he’s getting bolder and bolder! Though LGBT is not taboo in India any more, parents watching with kids definitely squirm even as the scenes get bolder and reach a crescendo! Rani-Saqib is a delightful ‘pair’! Rani is a natural and so it’s no big surprise. The young Saqib Salim more than matches strides with her with ease and confidence. Randeep Hooda completes the triangle with elan. The old melodies used aptly in the background add to the effect. The volley of punch lines is lapped up by the public. A very well-made story without Karan’s trade-mark frills and fancies – if you don’t mind the adult theme, especially in a movie with all other stories with kids / for kids! The tribute is to all the innovative creators – story / script writers, dialogue writers and directors who have left their indelible stamp on Indian cinema.

The next story directed by Dibaker Banerji is an adaptation of Satyajit Ray’s short story. Nawazuddin Siddhique who plays the failed actor accidentally landing up with a ‘face-in-the crowd’ role, is a delight to watch as he grabs at the opportunities to display minute emotions with subtle facial twitches. Authentic shots of chawl and street scenes of Mumbai are a feast to the eyes. The best of the lot is the ‘reading-the-newspaper-over-the shoulder-in-local-train’ scene – even if we have a feeling of having seen it earlier! The highlight is the hazaar ways of uttering the monosyllabic dialogue ‘ay’! The imaginary dialogue- baazi between Nawazuddin and his theatre guru Sadashiv Amrapurkar conveys the acknowledgement of the impact of theatre on our cinema.

Zoya Akhtar handles the next story – very typical of kids obsessed with filmy dance / music. This is the age of reality shows and ambitious parents and super-talented kids. But this father (Ranveer Sheorey) would rather enroll his son (Naman Jain) for football coaching but the boy has a flair for dancing (read item numbers). At the climax scene at the  “ghar ko multiplex banaake rakha hai”, the multiplex audience (we) as well as those in the movie – begin watching the gyrations of the ‘boy’ with wide-open mouth and raised eyebrows but end up easing those creases and smiling and clapping for his superb performance! “Follow your heart and dreams” is the theme – yes, many have come with dreams and made it big in Indian cinema. But couldn't there have been a better icon than Kat?

How can this euology to Indian cinema be complete without the legendary Amitabh Bachchan? Anurag Kashyap’s is the simple rustic tale of the crazy Bachchan fan (Sudhir Pandey) who sends his son (Vineet Kumar) to meet his idol with the home-made ‘amla murabba’, just as his father had sent him years ago on a similar mission to Dilip saab! Mission indeed – as it turns out to be! And the twist in the tale reminds us of Premchand’s short stories! This segment is a salute to millions of frenzied fans like the protagonist and to the legends of cinema.

Unique joint venture, hand-picked actors, natural acting, crisp dialogues, simple themes projecting the influence of the Indian film industry on the common man. The first half is crisp, the second half totters. No big surprise that the film ends with a celebration  - with a glorious star line-up - paisa vasool!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

BIG IS BEAUTIFUL

Yes, it's the TWIN TOWERS of WTC (pic taken in 2000)

NY skyline from atop WTC

The land of the BIG Apple – it overwhelms me with its awesome enormity! Even as the plane prepares to land, you can sense it – if it is New York, Chicago or Los Angeles, the skyline with sky-kissing skyscrapers is awesome; if it is Denver or Salt Lake City, it is the vast expanses of land and mountains! In the east, sprawling stretches of woods separate cities and in the west, majestic mountains!

Picturesque Golf course in Salt Lake City, Utah

   As you look out of the window of the plane at the city, you are dazzled at the sight of spacious parking lots with glittering car tops, streams of cars on the highways, green golf courses dotted with trees and bunkers and water bodies, sparkling swimming pools attached to houses. Every major airport has a plane taking off every other minute and within the airport there are trains or buses to take passengers from one concourse to another. If you have to catch another flight from another gate in the same concourse you should be lucky if you have adjacent gates – otherwise you may in all probability find yourself taking a long walk all the way from Gate 7 to 77! Major airports ply carts to ferry old / needy passengers to their gates – you may express your thanks by tipping the driver.

  Okay, if parking lots as seen from the plane impressed you, the multi-level parking lots at the airports and important places will bowl you over – I can’t help thinking of the cramped parking spaces in our country where there is a mad scramble for the limited parking available with the rest of the cars parked haphazardly as per the will and pleasure of motorists! Some of our airports and important land-marks  can now boast of multi-level parking lots. Now something about the cars: you have so many many of them zooming past in a steady stream on the different lanes! The number of cars speeding along some 14 lanes – be it New York or San Francisco or LA should be seen to be believed! But nine out of ten cars have just one occupant! And every family has at least two cars – even for the same number of members! From number let us move on to size – most of them are on the bigger side though you do spot some cute little ‘Ladybirds’. Many families have at least an SUV (Sports Utility Vehicle) – if not an RV (Recreation Vehicle – which is a house-on-wheels) – so that they can tag along boats and bikes for their family on weekend outings. In addition you see all those giant carriers plying between cities. We even spotted one humongous vehicle carrying a house – honestly!

Sprawling 'Pet (dog) supplies' aisle

   What else is big? Why, the houses, the museums, the National Parks, why even every departmental store is sprawling – with well-stacked aisles - even for Pet supplies (Dogs)! Shoppers grab items in multiple quantities. So it is two dozen eggs, a crate of juice cans, 12 pack tissue roll, three varieties of juices… Such shopping sprees call for a big boot, which all cars are equipped with. If you take a peak at the vegetable section, you will notice that capsicum, cabbage, cauliflower, tomato and onion – all are giant sized! Of course you find baby carrots too!

  For the desis, weekly grocery shopping is incomplete without a round of the Indian store. What amazed me was that they too sell giant packs – 4 lb packs of dal varieties or 2 lb packs of sooji or puffed rice or one lb packs of turmeric or coriander powder – all suitable for giant (sorry, joint) families where cooking is done at least twice a day! But our desi families here can’t and don’t indulge in everyday cooking except during parents’ visit. Still they have no option but go for these huge packs and then replenish the supplies every couple of months, tossing away the unused stuff into the garbage bin.

  If you are shopping for clothes, you will get lots of selection for giant sizes – XL, XXL and XXXL, but less for Medium size. If you are shopping for Small size, you had it! You’d be left wondering why God made you that way as you find yourself less privileged than bigger people in more than one respect! You’d curse yourself for being a child of a smaller god!

  Babies are huge too – especially the ones on formula milk. Naturally people out there are also of big build! I used to consider myself on the heavier side back home but compared to the Americans I was scrawny! It is their diet I feel – all that cheese and beef or bacon or ham stuffed in the bread or wrap – it is funny to watch on TV, the ads of fast food joints selling bulging burgers which spill out at every bite! Super sized sodas and sandwiches are in vogue. When it comes to coffee – even if it is the famed Starbucks – I feel that even an avid coffee enthusiast from overseas will be left struggling to finish the large cup! The coffee mugs at homes are large too!

  So that is it – the US is not only a vast land of big bucks but also of big people who eat, drink, drive, watch, wear – BIG and sport a BIG heart too! All the same that is also the country for those want to make it BIG!
© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

TO GIFT OR NOT TO GIFT .....

Wedding bells ring in joy for all. Who doesn't like to attend weddings? I am no exception. But of late I have been coming across a dampening phrase in every other invitation card – “No gifts or bouquets, please” or “Blessings only”. I cannot say for sure how it is with others but this statutory warning has landed me in a soup – a different kind, each time! So I have come to dread this phrase so much so that I feel pleased as punch to receive a normal, regular (read traditional) wedding invitation.

The first thing is I simply cannot understand the logic behind this request. Doesn't it go against the culture of ‘gifts’? It is all very well to say “Your blessing is your gift”. But I am just a lesser mortal in this materialistic world (come on, tell me how many of you aren't)  and don’t subscribe to lofty principles, but I can vouch that there is as much joy in giving as in receiving! Let me be me and do what I wish! You will understand when I elaborate …

The first time I came across this ‘unreasonable’ request was in the late 80's – I think those friends were much ahead of their times. I felt I had been stripped of my fundamental right to go armed with a gift to a wedding reception! I couldn't take it lying down. So I defiantly marched in with an extra large gift alright! To my embarrassment, our good hosts turned down the gift very graciously, explaining they hadn't accepted gifts even from relatives. You can imagine my stupid expression as I walked down the dais after greeting the newlyweds - with our gift still in my hand - (hubby doesn't chip in with help on such occasions – ‘gift’ is entirely my department, so I have to always grin and bear it!). More embarrassment when I couldn't balance my plate and gift. So I had to find a calm resting place for the latter so that I could focus on my dinner. The only consolation was that I was not the only one – there were many in the same predicament! Humph …. I will never forget that first experience.

Yes, but obviously I didn't learn my lesson! The next decade witnessed a boom in such requests. Needless to say I sailed through varied experiences ….. The first time, I repeated the same mistake as before but luckily wasn't penalized for it! In fact it was accepted without the least hesitation (perhaps to save our humiliation - so considerate, eh?). Encouraged, I continued to flaunt such a request with impunity the next time only to be politely put in place! However bouquets managed to get a better treatment. So the next time – yes, you guessed it – I landed with flowers. But they had to be left at the entrance! I had failed to read the invitation properly – it read – “No gifts / bouquets, please!” And they stuck to it verbatim!

Oh I forgot to mention another weird experience. It was my colleague’s son’s wedding – the entire staff was in full attendance. The invite carried the statutory warning, “No gifts, please” but some of us managed to thrust the gift envelope in the hands of the hapless bridegroom who was our ex-student. You see he couldn't put up a strong resistance against his respected teachers! We patted our own backs and boasted about our victory to the colleagues who were not so fortunate! Wait, that was not ‘The end’! Two days later, our colleague resumed duty. As we gathered around him for small talk, he smilingly took out envelopes from his bag and started reading out the names written on them and distributing! Yes, those were our gift envelopes returning to us! So he had the last laugh; my hubby too!

You see hubby had been in the disapproval mode all along, asking me to stick to the invite’s request. Finally I had to give in – no choice, you see – a case of twice (in fact more) bitten, thrice shy, so to say! So there we stood in the queue to greet the newlyweds – barehanded for the first time! There were many others like us. But there were so many others armed with gifts too. My eyes were riveted on the stage – no, not admiring the bridal couple but scrutinizing whether the gifts exchanged hands. Oh yes, they did! I looked at hubby. Needless to say he was coolly oblivious to the entire show. Even if he wasn't,  it didn't matter to him. Don’t you agree men are made of different mettle? I was on pins and needles. I noticed many in the queue pulling out an envelope from their purse with a flourish as they neared the dais. I cursed myself – how couldn't I think of that? I simply couldn't forgive myself. My guilt-pangs must have adorned my face but I guess the newlyweds with eyes only for each other must have missed it.

So what next? No prizes for guessing – I started attending weddings with an envelope with a cash gift in the purse – with the words “Best wishes from The Balasubramonians” inscribed on it. If it was accepted, fine. If not, again fine! This was a classic case of having the cake and eating it too. I patted my own back for resolving my dilemma – though it was definitely not my discovery!

This worked well for a while till we encountered a different experience. We had gone for a reception with our friends. As we stood together in the greet-the-couple-queue, I pulled out the gift envelope from my purse. Noticing that, my friend said that they didn't bring any gift as requested in the invite. We greeted the couple with the gift and hand-shake and our friends with a mere hand-shake. We felt bad that they must have felt bad. I got an earful from hubby who felt I had embarrassed our hosts as well as our friends.

So the next time, I played the obedient wife as we attended a wedding reception minus the ubiquitous envelope. Again the same scenes – gifts / envelopes / bouquets being accepted as graciously as mere handshakes and greetings. I gave hubby a meaningful glance. He whispered, “We are only honoring their request, so why feel guilty?” Theoretically correct, but personally I couldn't agree. I am still struggling to come to terms with the changing trend.

But my honest opinion is the phrase goes against our culture. I don’t think anyone would grudge presenting a gift! So why put a negative premium on that?! Is the aim to revolutionize? Will someone enlighten me with a valid / convincing explanation for this growing trend? I would like to state here that if people are taking concrete steps against dowry, they deserve kudos. But I hope they are not mixing up issues by saying ‘NO’ to gifts which can in no way be classified as dowry! If they still want to persist in bringing about a change in society, good luck to them! Till then will someone help me to get out of this ‘thrishanku’?! It is with dreadful apprehension that I open wedding invitation cards these days!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

OUR 'ENGLISH - VINGLISH' CLASSES

When I planned to start classes for ‘Spoken English’ for ladies, I had a fairly good idea of how to go about it. When I got an enthusiastic response from a heterogeneous group, I was happy on the one hand and apprehensive on the other. Some of them seemed to fit the bill as ideal student material with a little background in English. Others made up for their deficiency with their keenness and enthusiasm – they spoke nineteen to the dozen – in Hindi of course – that they were ready to continue – even for a year – till they learnt to speak English. It was heartening; it was even more challenging. When I started the classes, I came upon stumbling blocks but with a vehement determination not only on my part but also on the part of my eager students, we trudged on hand in hand – progressing slowly but steadily. Then there was no looking back.

What was imperceptibly apparent was that everyone understood - at least to a great extent - what I was speaking – in English of course. If any of them gave a quizzical look I would reframe my words. If they still didn’t follow, one of their friends would translate it in Hindi. I would turn a blind eye and a deaf ear – my students were probably under the impression that Ma’m wasn’t well-versed in Hindi! It suited me fine. But when I started teaching tenses I started explaining each tense with examples in Hindi so that they would understand better. It was a revelation to them!

They had teething troubles with subject-verb concord – especially in the present tense. Initially I kept stressing the drill practice as they stumbled. Soon some of those who had mastered it, enjoyed offering corrections. A handful of them were brimming with enthusiasm – they would discuss the class lessons for a good 15 minutes at the parking lot before dispersing to their houses! They even went a step further – they’d gather at one home for an hour on the non-class days and practice English. Isn’t it really heartening to have such sincere students – mind you – not the regular ones but ladies – home-makers - who have their hands full all 14-15 waking hours of the day?! One of them even started having dreams of our classes! Another would be so lost in her own world of English practice that her husband would have to jiggle her back to reality. A couple of them took my advice of ‘practice-conversations’ with family members so seriously that they got an earful from their kids who got very irritated at the long time their mom took to give them an answer in English. Others were better off – their kids were thrilled to help their mommies out! Some of them followed my ‘absurd-sounding’ advice seriously – they talked to themselves in English as they did their chores - when no one was around at home!

There were some funny moments as one of them would start a sentence in English, pause halfway through and ask for my approval. Another would try to modify her sentence and the former would change her half-sentence and ask me, ‘Correct?’ I would give a quizzical look and ask, “What do you want to say?” The others would burst out laughing saying, “We’ll make Ma’m forget her English”. Jokes apart, my students have graduated to correcting themselves, correcting others and best of all, speaking grammatically correct English.

On the flip side, in spite of my repeated requests that they should use English whenever they could and at least wherever the group met, they would make an instantaneous switch over to Hindi / Marathi the moment they crossed the ‘Lakshman Rekha’ (my front door, what else?) – even as I stood there to wave them goodbye! During the class, some would talk in monosyllables – I concluded that they were the reserved type. But there were times when they asked me for permission to switch to Hindi. When I gave the green signal, they indulged in what seemed an endless chatter! It was English that had rendered even the garrulous tongue-tied!

There were days when one or two couldn’t make it to class. The reasons - ranging from sick mother-in-law or stay-at-home kid / guests / celebrations …. to unavoidable chores / errands -  were all perfectly valid.  Sometimes they wouldn’t get time to complete their homework - again for perfectly valid reasons. I tried to motivate them more with a simple tactic – and it worked – yes, even with these adults. Yes, I gave 1-3 stars for their homework. The next class saw all of them vying to show me their homework! It was heartening to see the child in my adult students.

Well, I told you at the outset that I have a heterogeneous crowd – a few newly married; some in their late twenties; many of them middle-aged and a few in their fifties. Some of them were the mothers of my ex-students in College. A couple of them were in their 5th month of pregnancy when they joined. We appreciated their keenness – in fact we felt it was a double whammy for them – not only they but also their unborn ones were learning to speak English! Remember the recent news item about ‘Womb Tuitions’ - classes for pregnant women – to stimulate the brain of their Abhimanyus and to increase their IQs? On the other hand there were a couple of drop-outs too.

The reasons prompting these ladies to join my classes were varied too. Some needed the skill to be able to actively participate in school / other meetings or in their part-time office work. Others wanted to socialize more effectively at parties. Some wanted to be better equipped for their sojourns abroad. A few just needed that little push to boost their confidence and improve their fluency. In fact one of my students took off to the US soon after the course for four months to visit her son and she had a rollicking time in New York City, thanks to her self-confidence! She kept in touch through emails – describing how well she was handling situations there. In fact she saw ‘English Vinglish’ on the first day of release and sent me a mail saying that she was reminded of our English classes throughout the movie. And she suggested that I watch the movie with my current batch of students. In fact we had already planned it. Need I say we had a great time reliving moments from our class and agreeing with the multinationals at the English class in Manhattan as they proclaim “We are one big family.”

The ladies in each batch hailed from different states of India but they were all from the same neighborhood and some of them were already acquaintances. The group became one ‘BIG’ happy family as they bonded well – what with practice conversations on a variety of topics – about their school life, college life, parents, grandparents, home, family, friends, tours and celebrations. I had never anticipated that the classes would also lead to emotional attachment! There would be gentle ribbing – once the only lady in the batch with a single kid was being brainwashed by the others to try for a second child. During another conversation session, my students took us through a sea of emotions from laughter at their follies as kids to compassion and pity at their distressed childhood. A couple of ladies narrated about their marriage at the tender age of 17-18 and the adieu they bid to books. Another was lucky to get a chance to go to College, thanks to her yet-to-be-married elder sister – you see the parents didn’t want to have two daughters of marriageable age at home; at least they’d have the satisfaction to declare to the world that the younger one was going to college. One gave a graphic description of how she confronted robbers at home and her trauma; another gave a suspenseful narration about misplacing her ‘loaded’ (don’t misunderstand – it was loaded with jewels) purse at a hotel in an unknown place during a road trip and realizing it at the end of the day after driving some 250 kms! The story turned out to be an edge-of-the seat thriller! One student stirred our hearts by narrating how she had to balance between College and home with a paralyzed mother who needed her love and care. Yet another brought tears to our eyes as she described her impoverished childhood, her inability to go to school and how she managed to learn from a neighbor without her father’s knowledge and eventually managed to pass her SSC. We couldn’t help admiring her for her guts to complete her graduation and also making a mark for herself – not only is she now well off with a well-settled husband and two lovely kids but also engages in a lot of activities highlighting her versatility! That was one unforgettable class when emotions ran high. So you see apart from serving the primary purpose, my Spoken English classes have turned into a personal-bonding social site, ha ha!

As in any teaching situation, there is a lot of give-and-take. I learn the various angles in which my students view topics and keep incorporating precious additions to my teaching points! Considering the fact that fluent speakers of English have taken years to master it, these ladies have made admirable progress in a matter of months.
© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

DIWALI - THEN & NOW ......

Diwali is a festival celebrated in various pockets of India with slight variations but with equal gusto. It brings to my mind the joy of the rustle of new clothes, loads of scrumptious snacks and stacks of light-and-sound crackers, Lakshmi Puja – not necessarily in that order for everyone! The festive spirit and enthusiasm is the same but as everybody knows, so very different from olden days!

Half a century ago – no, make it 4 ½ decades – I don’t want to look ancient, you see – Diwali for me was all about the shimmering ‘pattu paavaadai - blouse’ (silk lehenga-choli) specially procured for me and my sister by my mother from Madras whichever part of India my father was posted. I couldn’t simply understand the logic of oil bath before getting into our silks but mother ruled! I also remember my brother arguing that we girls got new clothes worth Rs.150 (those were the days!) while his shorts and shirt cost only half that amount and that he be compensated with extra crackers. His plea would be turned down by my parents as illogical (each of us were entitled to Rs.100 worth of crackers those days) but we girls willingly handed over a portion of our share of crackers to our brother - partly because of pangs of guilt and partly because we were scared of the loud crackers. 

boondi laddoo

omappodi

mixture

thenguzhal

ribbon pakkodam

All sweets and savories were home-made – mother would line up huge steel ‘dabbas’ full of ‘mixture’ and  ‘murukku varieties’ (‘thenguzhal’, ‘ribbon pakkodam’, ‘muthusaram’, etc). There would be three categories of sweets – a rich, special exclusive ‘badam halwa’ / ‘jangiri (imriti)’/ ‘boondi laddoo’ – for family and near relatives only. The second would be ‘gulab jamuns’/ ‘Mysore pak’ / baadusha /coconut barfi or its ilk – for family and distribution. The third was the simple (yet tasty mind you) ‘rava laadu’ – which we’d call a poor cousin of the others in spite of the embedded raisins and cashews and leave them aside exclusively for distribution. Mother would make packets for distribution among family and friends while the rest of the family would stare with dismay at the alarmingly rapid dip in the levels of the ‘dabbas’. Father would be vociferous in his objection – “You are distributing the entire stuff – you know I don’t eat any of the stuff from others’ places.” Dad was fastidious to the point of being prejudiced – he wouldn’t even taste any of the incoming stuff but just say he knew it wasn’t half as good as ours! We kids loved it if there was a box of sweets from a sweet mart amidst the sweets from friends because they were a rarity in our household!

When I set up my own home in Pune after my marriage, I realized another facet of Diwali I had hitherto been blind to – the cleaning operation – you see mom had not involved us in the job as she’d manage with the servants. Once I started working, it was a tightrope walk – especially during festivals. My vacation would invariably start just two days prior to Diwali, so I would have to streamline my schedule – cleaning would start a week before with the help of my maid and snacks would start off three days before the D day. I followed my mother to the T – similar sweets – oh yes, I can make jangiri and boondi laddoo too, not to mention all the others. My goodness! There would be so many friends among whom there would be exchange of sweets!  In fact there would be a sort of healthy competition amongst us in exhibiting our culinary skills through our original ‘special-invention’ snacks and also good natured exchange of recipes. Comments at home traced the same pattern as in my parents’ home. My family would say my items tasted the best – I guess the same dialogue would resound in every family! Some friends who would supplement the few home-made snacks with those from the bazaar would seem a little shame-faced and apologetic about it! Or was it just a figment of my imagination? I can’t say for sure!

Diwali meant silks for the ladies of even reasonably well-to-do South Indian families. My mother had started buying Kancheevaram sari for me for every Diwali since I entered my teens and so by the time I got married I had a stock of over half a dozen of them! This Diwali gift continued even after marriage. I’d look up colorful ads of Radha Silks, Nalli Silks and Kumaran Silks during Diwali season in Tamil magazines and choose the color or design for next year’s Diwali. I’d give my parents three choices in order of preference and they would get me one of them and see to it that it reached me well ahead of the next Diwali so that my blouse would be ready too – so you see being a Puneite, I always lagged a year behind a ‘Madrasite’ in terms of Diwali designs in silks! Not that it matters! As for clothes for the rest of my family, hubby couldn’t care less, so it was my insistence that would see him reluctantly don a new shirt. My sons were chips off the old block too – I would have to drag them to the readymade store. But they’d rather pick up a new pair of shoes – they were more into shoes than clothes! But when it came to crackers, they’d never cry ‘halt’ – we had to apply the brakes taking into account our budget. Thousand rupees – (even 600-700 for that matter) just going up in smoke in a matter of minutes was a bit hard to digest for us elders!

How times have changed! Very few prepare snacks at home now - I'm proud to say I am one. With most women working, ordering sweets has become the order of the day. Even home-makers feel there’s no point taking too much trouble preparing snacks and choose to place orders as everything is so readily available and money is not an issue. Naturally exchange of sweets has drastically reduced. In fact people prefer to exchange chocolates / dry fruits instead of bought sweets – what with dubious and adulterated sweets flooding the markets. So much for the thrill of Diwali sweets! Not to mention the calorie-conscious majority! Also, with more and more opting for designer wear / ready-mades from Malls / boutiques, there are lesser visits (chasing the elusive matching blouse) to the tailor who lords over his customers during this season. The buying power has shot sky high and there is one-up(wo)man ship in flashing branded clothes and accessories and exchanging rich gifts / giant boxes of dry fruits. However kids’ thrill in crackers remains unabated. And the varieties have become infinite and sophisticated!

True, India’s standard of living has vastly improved. Money is replacing personal involvement. The air at most homes is not permeated by the aroma of cardamom, saffron, ghee and hot oil - Diwali sweets arrive from reputed sweet shops. Shopping areas are choc-a-bloc with enthusiastic shoppers breathing down one another's necks; many have switched to online shopping. Greetings as well as compliments for one another’s Diwali clothes are exchanged in the lobbies / corridors of buildings as everyone goes out to visit family or on drives to their favorite spots. My evenings are best spent on the terrace watching the colorful electric lights blinking and beckoning from each flat and dazzling fireworks dotting the skies as every society bursts sophisticated fireworks!

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

NAVARASA NAVARATRI (Fiction)

‘Navaratri’ was just round the corner – it was time to bring the doll collection from their boxes resting on the loft. Hubby and sonny obliged me by helping out with them a day prior to the start of the festival. As I carefully unpacked each of the dolls from the old clothes-packing, each seemed to have a story to tell – the ‘Rama Pattabhishekam’ set, 'Shakti' in her various avatars, the 'marapaachi couple'…….. – all heirloom to me.

Last year I was abroad during the festival to be with my two-month-old grandson. The year before last, I had set up ‘golu’ on a grand scale and invited all my friends and neighborhood ladies for ‘haldi-kumkum’. The nine days always served as an excuse for all of us to splurge our exclusive silk saris and matching accessories. This also provided an occasion for Amma to sing all her favorite ‘keertanams’ – she’d drag me to accompany her especially when she had to touch the high notes. ‘Vaasudevayani’ and ‘paraamugamela’ were our masterpieces – it’s not anything close to a statement like ‘ranga pooravi haara’’ was one of M.S’s classics – we are just home-singers – a shade better than ‘bathroom singers’, that is!  The highlight of my previous ‘golu’ was my ‘Appa’s’ visit on Saraswati Puja evening. My parents were staying at a stone’s throw from my house. But Appa could not walk up the slope, so I brought him over by car to show him my ‘golu’. When I offered him the fancy bag with coconut, a little packaged gift and ‘chundal’ prasadam, he flaunted it with child-like excitement My Amma had also put up a small doll-show at her place. I’d help her out in preparing ‘prasadam’ every day and setting up a couple of packets for the ladies expected for the day. On ‘Dussera’, Amma’s close friends had come to her place in the evening and they had a long song session with Appa as the ardent audience. Appa was ecstatic when Amma sang ‘Jagajanani’ – he reminded her – “Remember something about this song? You had sung this when I had come to ‘see’ you.” He was referring to the ‘bride-seeing’ episode and Amma blushed a beetroot red and all had a hearty laugh. By the time the friends left it was well over nine. My parents spent another hour reminiscing about ‘those good old times’ before retiring for the night. 

Appa did not wake up after that; Amma was in a daze. Amma’s ‘golu’ continued to linger on till the rites were over. Only after the thirteenth day could the dolls be put away. Amma handed over  the best lot of her doll-sets and figurines to me – the ‘Dasavataram’set, the dancing Tanjore doll, these ‘pavai vilakku’ figurines, the fat ‘chettiar’ dolls, the cute blue crawling Krishna…… Now I held them lovingly in my hands as my eyes brimmed with uncontrollable tears. I had lost Amma just four months ago….

I told my maid – “Kamalbai, bring Gayatri along with you in the afternoon.” Kamalbai asked with a look of surprise – “Why Bai?” I told her that I needed her teenage daughter to help me set up the ‘golu’ as I was not able to manage single-handed – I wasn't young at 55! She wanted to say something but seemed to hesitate. “What is it Kamalbai?” I queried. She stuttered – “Bai, it’s just four months since Amma passed away. What will people say if you have a grand celebration?” I did not want to elaborate, so I just told her – “Kamal, you know how much Amma used to enjoy all the festivities and fun. This will be for her joy.” Kamalbai stood speechless.

She brought along her daughter when she returned in the ath the seven tiers, which were decorated with an off-white silk dhoti of my husband with Ganga-Jamuna borders of green and red. I picked out two colorful Kanjeevaram saris for the backdrop. 

The dolls were then arranged artistically – the large impressive ones right on the top ‘tier’, and the teeny weenie ones on the lowest, each step  having dolls of the same theme – ‘dasavataram’, ‘Ramayanam’, Gods and Goddesses, traditional women from various Indian states, fruits…. 

One side of the steps was exclusively devoted to a marriage-hall scene – the bridegroom and the bride standing with garlands in hands ready for the cue to garland each other as a couple of priests sat chanting inaudible mantras in front of the sacred fire. While ladies waited with trays laden with coconuts, fruits, sweets, flowers, the musicians played auspicious unheard melodies on their nadaswaram and mridangam. Men clustered around doing nothing in particular and kids squatted on chairs or floor. 

Marriage lunch was served on 'banana leaves' at the adjacent area.

Music concert was going on at the other end!

 
The wooden ‘marapaachi’ couple occupied center stage. Two huge silver lamps stood majestically on either side. 

More time-consuming would be the colorful ‘rangoli’ I 'd painstakingly make in front of the ‘golu’. I would try out innovative ones too.

Then on one side of the ‘golu’ was the village scene – a hill at the far corner with a temple positioned on its top. There were steps marked with white powder. Tiny people were climbing up or down the hill. 

At the foothill I made a village – complete with the green fields, farmers, tractor, a well, huts, women, cattle… Now have a look at the decoration on the left side of the ‘golu’ – it was a metro scene. A huge park was created on one side with a working fountain and a neat garden adorned with colorful little plastic pieces - swing, see-saw and slide and the kids having a blast, mamas with babies in strollers, scooters parked by…. The roads saw a continuous stream of traffic – ‘Matchbox’ trucks, Porsche / Honda / Jaguar cars, raced past the mall / multiplex adorning the other side of the road…..

                                 

As for the colorful festoons and streamers and decorative little bulbs, my son took charge and did a swell job as usual. I sat all by myself and admired the final result of the day’s labor – earlier Amma used to sit with me, offer little suggestions and finally go gaga over the spectacular ‘golu’ – at that time I would just regard it a ceaseless chatter, now I was left yearning to hear a word from her.

I would invite my friends over the telephone for ‘haldi-kumkum’ on different days of the navaratri period so that I would have a manageable number every evening and I could attend to them individually.  But now I did not feel like inviting anyone. 

I experienced a vacuum on the first evening – I missed Amma – she would be the first lady I would honor with the auspicious haldi-kumkum, betel leaves, betel nut, banana, coconut, special gift of the year, a small mirror, a little comb and a packet of the prasadam of the day ( a different variety of ‘chundal’ every day). That was the practice till the year before last. Last year as I was abroad, I was saved from the upheaval of not being able to offer Amma ‘haldi-kumkum’ as Appa had passed away. This year she herself wasn't around! 


Somehow I felt like keeping aside her special packet beside the ‘golu’. The silver tray with the silver holders for haldi, kumkum, chandan and rose water stood untouched. I just lingered in the room in silence throughout the evening which dragged on without the splash and rustle of colorful Kanchheevaram saris and ‘pattu pavadai’s donned by lissome ladies and little lasses of the neighborhood.

Amma was in my thoughts all through - I don’t know when I drifted off to slumber at night……

“Eh, listen.. Janani, your ‘golu’ is simply superb – even better than all the previous years!”

“You liked it Amma? I am so happy – I took extra pains to make it special for you.”

“I found my gift waiting for me – thanks. And oh yes, I noted you had prepared my favorite ‘kadala chundal’ today – very tasty as usual – it’s years since I've had that.”

“I’m very happy Amma. And the gift - did you like it?”

“You bet! No one can beat you at such selection. I can’t figure out how you manage to find such exquisite and exclusive little gifts.”

I gave her a naughty wink and a wide smile in reply to her generous compliments.

“But I have one complaint.”

“What’s that, Amma? Did I miss something?”

“You hadn't invited anyone for the ‘golu’ and so there was no fun. And there were no songs! Even you did not sing …. Why?”

“You know Amma, how do you expect me to celebrate – it’s just four months since you…”

“Well, you know I had come over here during Ganesh Chathurthi last month and what did I get to see? Nothing! And you gave me the same explanation!” 

As she paused, I remembered my dream that night…. Amma was saying, “What’s this Janani? Why is there no celebration? No new Ganesh idol, no decorations, no puja, and no ‘naivedyam’ of ‘kozhakkattai’ (modak).  I’m disappointed...” I had sobbed, “How Ma, how do you expect me to celebrate with you gone…” Amma tried to pacify me, “But how does that affect the daughter’s family ….?” I had interrupted – “I don’t believe in such illogical rules! My mother matters most to me. So don’t talk to me about rules! I shall hear no more… no celebrations at my place this year!”  But Amma also gave me an ultimatum “Well, I have always been very fastidious about festivals – you know that! I believed in traditional celebration. I had inculcated those values in you too and took pride that you were following my footsteps. It would please me to see the grand celebrations at your place through the year. As always…. remember…”

So that was exactly why I had decided to have this doll-show for ‘navaratri’. For Amma’s sake. I was overjoyed to see the contented smile on Amma’s face now as she continued, “Today I’m pleased that you have set up a grand ‘golu’. But listen, I don’t like this strange silence. I’ll be around for all the nine days and I want a riot of color and sound of music and festive fervor and fun resonating from the house, okay?”

“Right Amma……”

I woke up with a start, jumped out of bed and turned on the light. Amma was smiling at me from the large laminated photo.

Next day I dialled all my friends to invite them. 

  

 
                           
There would be strains of music, sounds of chatter at my place this ‘navaratri’ as ladies and children would gather to admire my ‘golu’ and collect their goody bags along with ‘haldi-kumkum’. For Amma’s sake! 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Photos - Courtesy - my sister Hema Krishnan and her family.
Any resemblances to persons living or dead is coincidental.               

© Copyright 2011. Brinda Balasubramonian.

REMEMBERING APPA

   (It is seven years since my father left this world. But it needs no saying that his loving care and gentle words and smile-inducing simplicity are sorely missed by the entire family.)

What strikes me most about my father is his simplicity. He was a ‘normal’ human being – simple to the height of being termed a Simple Simon, innocent to the point of being gullible, straightforward to the extent of  being ridiculed - with no frills or fancies but with fads and foibles and idiosyncrasies aplenty! You can say he was the most mediocre average person. 

A late child, with siblings eight and ten years his senior, he was a pampered kid who had perfected the technique of having his way by rolling on the roadside and yelling with his mouth open like the Panama Canal! A ‘mamma’s boy’, he chose to feast on the home-made curd rice exclusively prepared for him while the rest of the family honored a lunch invitation. In the family of gold medalists, he was content with the 40% he scored in mathematics in his school days – he was a normal average student. But then he went on to bag the gold medal for B.Sc (Hons) and again for Engineering – so you could say he was just being a ‘normal’ member of his ‘intelligent’ family. That he’d attribute this transformation in academic achievement to the change of ‘grahas’ in his horoscope, is a different story.

His life pattern followed that of any average person hailing from the middle class family – a decent job, a happy family with its values intact. He never resorted to unscrupulous ways to climb the ladder of success or amass wealth though opportunities fell onto his platter often – he had the strength of character to resist temptations. An honest and upright, sincere and hardworking officer, he climbed the ladder of his career with steady ‘normal’ steps. His normal middle-class tendency of saving every penny possible for a better tomorrow might have earned him the label of a ‘miser’ from some. But those in the know, knew he would unflinchingly spend on food and his family but never on his own clothes or accessories. If he had to go out alone, he’d choose to walk the distance or take a bus. But he’d play chauffeur to his dear wife or children without a murmur. We would rate him a clumsy driver but it is to his credit that he never had a single accident during the forty five years he drove his car!
                                    

He was not the archetypal father dreaded and distanced by the members of the family. He was the most adorable father – incapable of uttering a harsh word to the kids, protective, caring and ambitious for them. He’d baby-sit patiently and even sing to us or narrate stories. Oh yes, he’d also forget his kids in the parked car and walk home with the purchases from the nearby market! 

Yes, he loved it when we romped home with the first rank. But when others spoke highly about his son’s awesome serve in table tennis or fantastic bowling figures, he’d wear a ‘what’s-so-great-about-it’ look! He could not differentiate a cricket ball from a tennis ball!  

As a grandfather, he gloated over the academic achievements of the younger generation. He would listen to their animated discussion on sports with a deadpan expression, blatantly revealing his ignorance! A simpleton to the core, he never bothered to pick up sophistication! Even when we had guests for dinner, he’d start off even before them in spite of our secret gesticulations, and give us a wicked grin!

A wizard at dates and numbers, father soon started forgetting the same in his old age. Like any ‘normal’ old man, he too had his trysts with doctors and medicines; he had his share of worries, genuine and unfounded. But unlike Indian husbands of his generation, he was not a male chauvinist. His only hobby was to help mother in all her chores.

This man, with no tall claims to extraordinary genius or attainments, was a loving, lovable, down-to-earth person. Though quiet, shy, and reserved, he carved a niche for himself in the hearts of all relatives and friends and subordinates and colleagues. He has left normal indelible memories in the normal people associated with him. What I now realize is, you don’t have to be great to be remembered – you could be a normal person with a good soul without any tinge of meanness or wickedness! After all, ‘they also serve who wait and watch’.