No one knows when my dad was born. Not for sure anyway. My grandparents lived in a very large joint family in Namak Mandi in Agra. No light fell on the very narrow street on which the house stood - because the houses were placed close together and were 3 stories tall. You walked through a narrow passage to enter a courtyard flooded with light. From the terrace, you could see the Taj Mahal - just a little ways away... Women occupied the upper floors - little lattices covered the balconies - so they could see the courtyard - but not be seen themselves - in keeping with the strict mughal traditions that must have prevailed in the area in earlier generations.
That is where my dad was born. In a house filled with lots of uncles, aunts and cousins. No one kept track of births or deaths. And so it came about that even though my great grandfather was a well known judge, and my grandfather a lawyer - when it came time to fill out his birth date on a form - my father was left to his own devices.
Dad says he thought long and hard about the date to pick. He finally settled on Christmas Day - because that is the day a large number of people celebrate. It was easy to remember. And so it came about that every Christmas we would celebrate my father's birthday. My young niece kept up the tradition while I was away. And the last couple of years we've tried to see if we can outdo ourselves with having a non-Gujrati birthday party - it is Christmas after all - and we all grew up among Catholic friends in Bandra.
One year we all went out to a champagne brunch at one of the hotels in Mumbai - and had a GRAND time. Last year , Dhruti got a caterer to provide a "continental" menu of 3 kinds of pasta , soup, and a host of such things.
This year we decided we would go with our traditional macaroni in white sauce (the kind we had before we heard of beschamel and ragu) with tomato ketchup, crackers and cheese, and etc. And we would have a few Thai items on the menu.
Desert was to be a rum cake from re-Joyce made in the traditional goan style. And since the champagne cooler at Nitin's favorite wine story broke the previous night - we would go with my favorite - Sangria.
The ENT at Sadr Bazaar not withstanding the throat was pretty bad. So on the way to my parent's house I stopped at the chemist and got some cough syrup. I drank a couple of tablespoons full and made my way upstairs.
I helped set the table and was cutting the cake. I tasted a couple of pieces. YumMMMy!!! Then I told my cousins and niece to finish making the fresh rolls cos i really had to take a nap.
I woke up as the sangria was being made... and I just had to have some. It wasn't right - so we worked on it, tasting it... and then it was just delicious. So we all had a glass.
My dad said later that he had a very good time. So did all the other guests. Me - I am still trying to remember. But the macaroni and white sauce were delicious with the ketchup. So was the sangria !
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