Papa had arrived in Bombay and moved up from Jogeshwari to Bhuleshwar. He was living at Gordhan Kaka's house at Kumbha Tukda and commuting by tram to the mills in Parel.
His youngest sister, Devkanya aka Kukoon was married into a Gujarati family that lived across the street from Kishore Bhuvan. Mom's Somi masi was neighbors with the family. Kukoon was a beautiful, talented and exuberant 16-year old. She soon became a part of Somi masi's extended family, and became friends with the Choksey sisters, especially mom.
Papa in the meantime was quite despondent - he had been engaged to be married. Weeks into the engagement his fiance and her entire family were wiped out in a deadly and tragic fire.
The young Kukoon was determined to find a match for her big brother and proceeded to persuade her mother in law Kamala ben and Somi masi to explore an alliance with mom.
Mom, was the second oldest daughter of a large family. While the oldest daughter had been married when she was just 13, my grandfather's more liberal bent of mind prevailed and at 20 - mom was still single and helping Ba run Kishore Bhuvan. The one suitor that she had been shown, she turned down, much to the chagrin of my older aunt - who counseled her that she really should not be picky. After all she was already 20, and there were several other sisters that were of marriageable age.
Somi masi discussed this with Ba - who was a little concerned about marrying her daughter to someone outside the Patan community, and particularly to someone from a place called Haldwani, which sounded like it was in a jungle. However, the young Kukoon persisted.
There was a chance encounter - Mom and Thakore mama stepping out of the hospital where they had visited Hansa mami saw Papa in the street. Mom oblivious to the strings being pulled behind the scenes, is said to have remarked to Thakore mama that there was an attractive man (or something like that). This message was relayed to their parents who were starting to receive very strong feelers from Kamala bhen.
One morning Ba instructed mom to go visit Somi masi. Mom that that was a bit odd, cos she almost never visited Somi masi. Most of the visits were FROM Somi masi and Kukoon and Kamala bhen. However, mom picked out a pretty sari, that she was sure she would not be allowed to wear and asked Ba for permission. It was granted without question.
So mom put on her pretty sari, went downstairs and crossed the street to Somi masi's. When she got there, she was asked to go stop in at Kamala bhen's. Inside Kamala bhen's house was a whole crowd of people, including dad's mother Rewa Ba. Mom completed whatever flimsy tasks that Somi masi and Kamala bhen had come up with and returned to Kishore Bhuvan, oblivious of what had transpired.
Within a short time, Rewa Ba informed Kamala bhen that she would like to pursue the match. This came back to Kishore Bhuvan through Somi masi and a formal meeting was organized. Rewa Ba, Kukoon bua and papa came, accompanied by a few other people. One look at papa, and mom was convinced. Papa's mom Rewa ba had made up her mind for papa. A formal proposal was made.
Mom's father - Bhai - approved. Ba, despite her concerns about the remoteness of the location, was swayed over by Bhai - who told her it all felt right to him.
The "gol-dhana" ceremony - where the engagement is formally proclaimed was held at Gordhan Kaka's house in Kumbha Tukda. Sarla bhen Kilachand of Kesar Sugar , Rewa Ba's friend from Baheri, and from one of the leading families of Patan was also present. This helped reinforce the "rightness" of the arrangement.
A wedding date was set. The groom, marrying into a very traditional Gujarati family, spoke no Gujarati. The bride marrying into a family with its home in the jungle had seen lush green fields and jungles only in her dreams. 62 years later they have travelled around the world by car, train, bus, airplane, ship, elephant, horse and camel. While they still call Bombay home, they spend less and less time there.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Zamana of Parents Youth - 3, Kailash Kaka and the Allahabad Connection
Papa had 2 friends in his youth that grew up with him Kailash Kaka and Shashi Mama. Kailash was a young man he met in Nainital. Shashi was actually his mom's cousin. The 3 of them spent a lot of time together in Mumbai in the late 40s and early 50s. Both joined mom and dad on their honeymoon trip to Nainital. In fact, part of the honeymoon trip was AT Kailash kaka's ancestral home in the hills of Nainital. Mom and Dad returned there atleast once or twice with the infant Dhruvbhai and Uttambhai.
Grandfather was working on a case for the Kesar Sugar factory in Baheri with Jivanlal Chhotalal. The case dragged through atleast one long summer. The case was to be heard at the Allahabad High Court and the Kesar Sugar team needed some Allahabad based lawyers. Who better to represent a well connected Gujarati family, than another set of Gujaratis ? They chose the Dave brothers of Allahabad.
That summer the Kilachands and the entire legal team decided to work out of Naintal. Grandfather and his entourage joined them. By now, papa had become a permanent fixture in the entourage, being called upon to take care of odd jobs like handling grandfathers stuff and running errands in between reading Popular Mechanics.
The Kilachands rented the Chitrakut bungalow on the Lower Ayar Patta slopes from Raja Jvala Prasad. The Allahabad lawyers - the Dave family - moved into Mt Kailash their ancestral home located on the Upper Ayar Patta slope. The Ayar Patta slope leads to Tiffin Top.
The Daves had a young nephew, Kailash. They also had a telescope. That started a friendship that lasted over 25 years, even after Kailash Kaka moved to London And the telescope - it was moved from Mount Kailash to Chtirakut, and used to check out the activities in homes within line of sight of Chitrakut.
When Papa finished engineering college and came to Mumbai seeking employment, he first stayed with his older cousin and mentor Balu kaka in Jogeshwari (a distant suburb). From there he would take the train to the mill that he worked at in Parel. A few months later, Balu Kaka went to London for further studies. Papa then moved in with his mom's uncle - Gordhan Kaka.
While this seemed like a very distant relationship, that is how clusters built up in the Bombay of that time. Gordhan kaka lived in Bhuleshwar near the Kumbha Tukda temple. He lived in a "chawl" or multi-story tenemement. A common balcony ran on the side of each floor. Each unit consisted of 2 rooms a "front" room cum kitchen and a sleeping room. Sometimes there would be a private balcony on the other side. The front room had an area carved out that served as a place for washing and bathing. Bathrooms were housed in a common toilet block at the end of each of the common balconies. People typically rented a unit here, paying a large initial deposit called "pughdi" and monthly rent.
The 2 rooms in Kumbha Tukda housed Gordhan Kaka, his mother, his second wife - the first one lived in Kapadwanj and was rumored to be insane), the children from his first wife, and his son Shashi from the current wife. Papa was welcomed into this family - though being an almost fully grown man, he ended up having to sleep in the public balcony in the area directly outside their unit. He and his black trunk lived there quite happily for several months.
He soon discovered that the Kilachand's Bombay home was quite nearby and Jivanlal and Sarla ben were now spending a fair amount of time in Bombay. So that relationship was renewed. The Daves nephew, Kailash had also taken up residence with his maternal aunt at Narpat Mansion in Girgaum, also a short distance from Bhuleshwar. He renewed his acquaintance with the young Kailash. And Gordhan kaka's son, Shashi - technical dad's uncle, but of similar age and inclination, joined them to become a trio.
While I never met Kailash kaka - he is supposed to have had a zest for the good things in life. When he left India to move to London following his marriage to a young Parsi lady. Papa met him when he visited England in 1964.
Kailash kaka died well before his time, but he left Papa with a stack of records which has left an indelible mark on us. for that's how we were all exposed to Cliff Richard's Bachelor Boy, the Mambo song, Vaya Con Dios, Peggy Lee's When you get what you want.... and my favorite Sixteen Tons from a very young age.
Grandfather was working on a case for the Kesar Sugar factory in Baheri with Jivanlal Chhotalal. The case dragged through atleast one long summer. The case was to be heard at the Allahabad High Court and the Kesar Sugar team needed some Allahabad based lawyers. Who better to represent a well connected Gujarati family, than another set of Gujaratis ? They chose the Dave brothers of Allahabad.
That summer the Kilachands and the entire legal team decided to work out of Naintal. Grandfather and his entourage joined them. By now, papa had become a permanent fixture in the entourage, being called upon to take care of odd jobs like handling grandfathers stuff and running errands in between reading Popular Mechanics.
The Kilachands rented the Chitrakut bungalow on the Lower Ayar Patta slopes from Raja Jvala Prasad. The Allahabad lawyers - the Dave family - moved into Mt Kailash their ancestral home located on the Upper Ayar Patta slope. The Ayar Patta slope leads to Tiffin Top.
The Daves had a young nephew, Kailash. They also had a telescope. That started a friendship that lasted over 25 years, even after Kailash Kaka moved to London And the telescope - it was moved from Mount Kailash to Chtirakut, and used to check out the activities in homes within line of sight of Chitrakut.
When Papa finished engineering college and came to Mumbai seeking employment, he first stayed with his older cousin and mentor Balu kaka in Jogeshwari (a distant suburb). From there he would take the train to the mill that he worked at in Parel. A few months later, Balu Kaka went to London for further studies. Papa then moved in with his mom's uncle - Gordhan Kaka.
While this seemed like a very distant relationship, that is how clusters built up in the Bombay of that time. Gordhan kaka lived in Bhuleshwar near the Kumbha Tukda temple. He lived in a "chawl" or multi-story tenemement. A common balcony ran on the side of each floor. Each unit consisted of 2 rooms a "front" room cum kitchen and a sleeping room. Sometimes there would be a private balcony on the other side. The front room had an area carved out that served as a place for washing and bathing. Bathrooms were housed in a common toilet block at the end of each of the common balconies. People typically rented a unit here, paying a large initial deposit called "pughdi" and monthly rent.
The 2 rooms in Kumbha Tukda housed Gordhan Kaka, his mother, his second wife - the first one lived in Kapadwanj and was rumored to be insane), the children from his first wife, and his son Shashi from the current wife. Papa was welcomed into this family - though being an almost fully grown man, he ended up having to sleep in the public balcony in the area directly outside their unit. He and his black trunk lived there quite happily for several months.
He soon discovered that the Kilachand's Bombay home was quite nearby and Jivanlal and Sarla ben were now spending a fair amount of time in Bombay. So that relationship was renewed. The Daves nephew, Kailash had also taken up residence with his maternal aunt at Narpat Mansion in Girgaum, also a short distance from Bhuleshwar. He renewed his acquaintance with the young Kailash. And Gordhan kaka's son, Shashi - technical dad's uncle, but of similar age and inclination, joined them to become a trio.
While I never met Kailash kaka - he is supposed to have had a zest for the good things in life. When he left India to move to London following his marriage to a young Parsi lady. Papa met him when he visited England in 1964.
Kailash kaka died well before his time, but he left Papa with a stack of records which has left an indelible mark on us. for that's how we were all exposed to Cliff Richard's Bachelor Boy, the Mambo song, Vaya Con Dios, Peggy Lee's When you get what you want.... and my favorite Sixteen Tons from a very young age.
Saturday, June 5, 2010
The Zamana of My Parent's Youth -2 of Many - How papa became an engineer and The Prem Maha Vidyalaya of Brindavan
After finishing high school, papa returned to Haldwani. Tauji had already started making a living for himself as a farmer. While papa enjoyed watching things grow, he could not be bothered with supervising the farm hands. Instead of supervising and directing the farm workers, papa would often be found curled up somewhere in the field reading a copy of Popular Mechanics or Natural Geographic - if you recall his interest in photography had already been kindled by the court photographer in Tehri. He kept telling the family they needed to buy a tractor. He could farm the entire property if they just got a tractor. However, an investment in a tractor was difficult to justify in the face of incredibly cheap labor that was available in those days.
But how does a young man living on a farm in Haldwani get a hold of Popular Mechanics or Nat Geo in the late 1930s ? Now that is another story.
The Kilachands, a prominent industrial family of Patan (yes, the same Patan that mom is from) and Mumbai, had established a sugar factory in Baheri - about 50 Kms south of Haldwani. The factory was managed by Chhotalal Kilachand's son, Jivanlal Chhotalal.
Jivanlal consulted Dad's father - Ghanshyam Das on a legal issue with the local contractors that had built the factory. As a result of this Ghanshyam Das spent several days a week in Baheri. Frequently, young Satish, popular with the Kilachands, went along with him.
The Kilachands home was a large mansion along the lines of a home in Patan - but most importantly it had a large collection of magazines - Popular Mechanics and National Geographic - which young Satish often borrowed and brought back to Haldwani.
Through all of this reading, emerged the determination to become an engineer.
Unfortunately, the engineering schools of England, a popular place for young men to go study, was out of Papa's reach. It was a time of turmoil as the struggle for independence was underway. Schools of advanced study were being shut down as they were being suspected of harboring freedom fighters.
One day, Tauji - papa's older brother - came home and reported that he had seen an advertisement for an engineering college in Brindavan. Brindavan, closer to Agra, was one of the towns on the banks of the Jamuna river. Education at the Prem Maha Vidyalaya was free and included room and board for students from out of town. This was the perfect place for papa to fulfill his aspiration of becoming an engineer.
The story of the Prem Maha Vidyalaya and its founder, is equally fascinating. Papa mentioned a few things, and I found the rest on the net. A true prince - Raja Mahendra Pratap had donated his family estate to the cause of technical education, because he strongly believed that that was the key to India's development and freedom. This institution was shut down from 1932 to 1938 as it was seen as a threat to the British government. Read all about it at http://www.rajamahendrapratap.net/pmv.htm (also reproduced below)
There were only 2 teachers at the Brindavan College of Engineering, and they were not particularly good. So young Satish taught himself from the books that were available at the school, some text books and the guidance of the principal Narender Dev, whom papa found particularly inspiring. I remember seeing some of those college textbooks on the L-Shaped black bookshelf in the Anand Vihar house. And I also remember seeing Popular Mechanics and National Geographic copies forever.
Raja Mahendra pratap singh
"No religion is greater than love"
Prem Maha Vidhyalaya :
Founded on May 24th 1909 byRaja Mahendra Pratap Singh.PMV was one of its own kind and one of the first polytechnic institution in India. This institution provided all the technical courses which wasmuch needed at that time. After travelling all over the world and seeing the progress in other countries Raja saheb had decided that this kindof institution would give benifit to people nation wide.The institution offered courses like carpentary,metal works,weaving textiles and carpets,pottery,etc.It also had its own hostel so that students coming from faroff places could reside.The main objective was that students could learn the skill and use it to earn their living.
Estate gifted-Prem Mahavidyalaya inspired by foreign technological advance. We may briefly recall his thoughts at the gift of his estate and property for the technical college; for he took the technical education to be the foundation for all round development of India, In his own words, "I returned home and began to prepare for the great event - giving away of my property ! I sent out invitations that in August, during the famous Jhulan festival of Brindaban, the ceremony to give name to my first child would performed. On a large scale plans were laid out for a religious ceremony as well as merry making festivities. Our relatives brought gold ornaments and clothes for my son! Friends brought presents. Pandit Madan Mohan Malviya ji kindly arrived at my special request. After yagya meeting was held. But here I announced that my son was a technical college wchich i mean to found...Finally the name 'Prem Mahavidyala the college of Love was unanimously adopted." Rani Balbir Kaur Sahiba had not much of objection to the gifting of propery for the technical college,the other mothers of Rajaji, Rani Swarup Kaur and Hanuwant Kaur, had, however, objections to the gifting of the property.It was due to their objections and the advice given by Pandit Madan Mohan Malviya ji only half of the Raja's ancestral estate was gifted for the purpose. institution became the symbol of not only the need to train the youth in all round technical education, but the center of the nationalistic aspirations.
Its importance can easily be assessed by looking at the persons who headed as its Acharyas, Shivsaran Fatakwala, Bhai Kotwal,Puranik,Ayodhya Prasad Fatakwala, Sampurnanand, Paripurnanand, Anand Bhikshu,Nand Kumar Dev Vashista, Acharya Gidwani, Acharya Jugal Kishoreand others. Acharya Narendra Dev headed its management committee during 1938-40. Mahatma Gandhi took personal interest in the institutiolin the absence of Raja Mahendra Pratap, and many of the principals were choosen and sent by him. The British became so much obsessed and and afraid of it that it was banned and closed in 1932, and this restriction could only be liftedwhen the first Congress ministry was formed in UP. under pandit Govind Ballabh Pant in 1938.
Trust : Prem Maha Vidhalaya Association formed under the Societies Registration ACT of 1860.on the 29th July 1910 which was created by Rajajii.It has 100 trustees as members.Five villages namely
Sukhea - Entire village
Bural- Entire village
Ukhtearpoor- Entire village
Dhumera- Entire village
Jasnaolee- Entire village
had been donated to support the institution which fetched thirty thousand anually.In thosedays it was considered a big amount.
Present Situation: Today is a sorry sight of the PMV.Unfortunately the trustees have not fulfilled their duties.As a result PMV does not function like how it functioned under Rajaji.The building needs renovation which would require huge expense.The trustees are unable to understand the importance of rajaji's dream.Some organisation has to come forward and save this dream from the clutches of these selfish beings and revive the golden era of specialised education.
But how does a young man living on a farm in Haldwani get a hold of Popular Mechanics or Nat Geo in the late 1930s ? Now that is another story.
The Kilachands, a prominent industrial family of Patan (yes, the same Patan that mom is from) and Mumbai, had established a sugar factory in Baheri - about 50 Kms south of Haldwani. The factory was managed by Chhotalal Kilachand's son, Jivanlal Chhotalal.
Jivanlal consulted Dad's father - Ghanshyam Das on a legal issue with the local contractors that had built the factory. As a result of this Ghanshyam Das spent several days a week in Baheri. Frequently, young Satish, popular with the Kilachands, went along with him.
The Kilachands home was a large mansion along the lines of a home in Patan - but most importantly it had a large collection of magazines - Popular Mechanics and National Geographic - which young Satish often borrowed and brought back to Haldwani.
Through all of this reading, emerged the determination to become an engineer.
Unfortunately, the engineering schools of England, a popular place for young men to go study, was out of Papa's reach. It was a time of turmoil as the struggle for independence was underway. Schools of advanced study were being shut down as they were being suspected of harboring freedom fighters.
One day, Tauji - papa's older brother - came home and reported that he had seen an advertisement for an engineering college in Brindavan. Brindavan, closer to Agra, was one of the towns on the banks of the Jamuna river. Education at the Prem Maha Vidyalaya was free and included room and board for students from out of town. This was the perfect place for papa to fulfill his aspiration of becoming an engineer.
The story of the Prem Maha Vidyalaya and its founder, is equally fascinating. Papa mentioned a few things, and I found the rest on the net. A true prince - Raja Mahendra Pratap had donated his family estate to the cause of technical education, because he strongly believed that that was the key to India's development and freedom. This institution was shut down from 1932 to 1938 as it was seen as a threat to the British government. Read all about it at http://www.rajamahendrapratap.net/pmv.htm (also reproduced below)
There were only 2 teachers at the Brindavan College of Engineering, and they were not particularly good. So young Satish taught himself from the books that were available at the school, some text books and the guidance of the principal Narender Dev, whom papa found particularly inspiring. I remember seeing some of those college textbooks on the L-Shaped black bookshelf in the Anand Vihar house. And I also remember seeing Popular Mechanics and National Geographic copies forever.
Raja Mahendra pratap singh
"No religion is greater than love"
Prem Maha Vidhyalaya :
Founded on May 24th 1909 byRaja Mahendra Pratap Singh.PMV was one of its own kind and one of the first polytechnic institution in India. This institution provided all the technical courses which wasmuch needed at that time. After travelling all over the world and seeing the progress in other countries Raja saheb had decided that this kindof institution would give benifit to people nation wide.The institution offered courses like carpentary,metal works,weaving textiles and carpets,pottery,etc.It also had its own hostel so that students coming from faroff places could reside.The main objective was that students could learn the skill and use it to earn their living.
Estate gifted-Prem Mahavidyalaya inspired by foreign technological advance. We may briefly recall his thoughts at the gift of his estate and property for the technical college; for he took the technical education to be the foundation for all round development of India, In his own words, "I returned home and began to prepare for the great event - giving away of my property ! I sent out invitations that in August, during the famous Jhulan festival of Brindaban, the ceremony to give name to my first child would performed. On a large scale plans were laid out for a religious ceremony as well as merry making festivities. Our relatives brought gold ornaments and clothes for my son! Friends brought presents. Pandit Madan Mohan Malviya ji kindly arrived at my special request. After yagya meeting was held. But here I announced that my son was a technical college wchich i mean to found...Finally the name 'Prem Mahavidyala the college of Love was unanimously adopted." Rani Balbir Kaur Sahiba had not much of objection to the gifting of propery for the technical college,the other mothers of Rajaji, Rani Swarup Kaur and Hanuwant Kaur, had, however, objections to the gifting of the property.It was due to their objections and the advice given by Pandit Madan Mohan Malviya ji only half of the Raja's ancestral estate was gifted for the purpose. institution became the symbol of not only the need to train the youth in all round technical education, but the center of the nationalistic aspirations.
Its importance can easily be assessed by looking at the persons who headed as its Acharyas, Shivsaran Fatakwala, Bhai Kotwal,Puranik,Ayodhya Prasad Fatakwala, Sampurnanand, Paripurnanand, Anand Bhikshu,Nand Kumar Dev Vashista, Acharya Gidwani, Acharya Jugal Kishoreand others. Acharya Narendra Dev headed its management committee during 1938-40. Mahatma Gandhi took personal interest in the institutiolin the absence of Raja Mahendra Pratap, and many of the principals were choosen and sent by him. The British became so much obsessed and and afraid of it that it was banned and closed in 1932, and this restriction could only be liftedwhen the first Congress ministry was formed in UP. under pandit Govind Ballabh Pant in 1938.
Trust : Prem Maha Vidhalaya Association formed under the Societies Registration ACT of 1860.on the 29th July 1910 which was created by Rajajii.It has 100 trustees as members.Five villages namely
Sukhea - Entire village
Bural- Entire village
Ukhtearpoor- Entire village
Dhumera- Entire village
Jasnaolee- Entire village
had been donated to support the institution which fetched thirty thousand anually.In thosedays it was considered a big amount.
Present Situation: Today is a sorry sight of the PMV.Unfortunately the trustees have not fulfilled their duties.As a result PMV does not function like how it functioned under Rajaji.The building needs renovation which would require huge expense.The trustees are unable to understand the importance of rajaji's dream.Some organisation has to come forward and save this dream from the clutches of these selfish beings and revive the golden era of specialised education.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The Zamana of My Parent's Youth - 1 of Many in the series
A bonus of the Saturday lunch ritual is that I get to hear tales from my parent's youth, from the time they were growing up or were newly married. I often wish I could be writing them down as they speak, because I sometimes forget an important event or detail by the time I actually get down to writing it. The stories are fascinating because they paint a picture of the that particular time in India. I shall jot these down as I hear and remember them. And perhaps one day I will have the opportunity to record them in some order.
Mummy finished her daily fruit inspection and declared that there would be no mangoes today. The Kesar mangoes were too juicy. She had tried to cut them into cubes yesterday (because to cut them into wedges with the skin on would be completely unacceptable in our household) and they were too pulpy. And the Hapus is not quite ready for eating. They need to sit wrapped in newspaper for one more day before they are ready.
So I innocently asked if we could ask Radhika to make aam ras today - cos its Sunday and I have the time to have a leisurely meal. From there we digressed into the jamanvars of Kishore Bhuvan.
Every year, during the mango season or "Ras no Galo" the l in Galo to be pronounced with a bit of a roll. All of Bhai's sisters and their children would come over - Aam Ras from 3 kinds of mangoes would be extracted - Mankhulas for Hira Foi's family, Paa-eerie for Moti Fai's family - and whatever else for the rest.
There were no refrigerators back then for chilling the ras.. not that one could find a household refrigerator large enough to chill the quantity of ras required. So mom's brothers would be dispatched to bring home ice from the ice factory. Mota mama, Bhagwan mama, Vallabh mama would bring home large slabs of ice wrapped in kantaan (jute fabric) . They would load it up into a Ghoda-Gadi (the horse drawn Victorias of that time). The ice would be washed at home and then used to chill the ras.
The Kishore Bhuvan jamanvars used to be major events. There were 4 of them each year. And everyone (meaning mom) looked forward to each of them. There was one during the Ras no Galo, another during Diwali, one on her grandfather's death anniversary which was on Kali Chaudas which is the day before Diwali - man that must have been a lot of feasting around Diwali.
The fourth was when Kanta foi (who lived in Patan) came to town. It was always a major celebration when she came. For Kanta foi was bhai's youngest sister. She had a great zest and enthusiasm for the good things in life, and ba and bhai always wanted to make her time in Bombay special. So there would be things like Thandai and other special treats that were made up Kanta foi was around. Her visits provided a good break from the ordinary routine and was looked forward to with great anticipation and always included many trips to the ice factory.
Speaking of ice factories, Papa, who spent much of his middle-school years tagging along with his grandfather - the Judge, had a very different kind of experience. He recalls summers in Sahranpur, a town that lies somewhere between Haridwar and Rishikesh. The Judge was advising or associated with a wealthy land owner who owned many mango orchards, gardens, elephants and ice factories! They would ride out on elephant back into the mango orchards and do a "pick-your-own" mangoes - kinda like what we do with strawberries and apples in New York, though its not so grand without the elephants - they would eat whatever they wanted right inside the orchard. Baskets of mangoes would be collected and sent to the ice factory and the chilled mangoes were eaten later in the evening or transported to Agra for the rest of the family.
Today, we send my driver Suresh out in a car to fetch the mangoes from either the Star Bazaar or the fruit vendor who plies his trade on a cart in the Sixth Block in Koramangala. We stick them in the refrigerator once they are ripe and then mummy peels and cubes them for us, and we eat it with a fork. These stories may span 70 years, but they still have the same constants - chilled mangoes and good times.
Mummy finished her daily fruit inspection and declared that there would be no mangoes today. The Kesar mangoes were too juicy. She had tried to cut them into cubes yesterday (because to cut them into wedges with the skin on would be completely unacceptable in our household) and they were too pulpy. And the Hapus is not quite ready for eating. They need to sit wrapped in newspaper for one more day before they are ready.
So I innocently asked if we could ask Radhika to make aam ras today - cos its Sunday and I have the time to have a leisurely meal. From there we digressed into the jamanvars of Kishore Bhuvan.
Every year, during the mango season or "Ras no Galo" the l in Galo to be pronounced with a bit of a roll. All of Bhai's sisters and their children would come over - Aam Ras from 3 kinds of mangoes would be extracted - Mankhulas for Hira Foi's family, Paa-eerie for Moti Fai's family - and whatever else for the rest.
There were no refrigerators back then for chilling the ras.. not that one could find a household refrigerator large enough to chill the quantity of ras required. So mom's brothers would be dispatched to bring home ice from the ice factory. Mota mama, Bhagwan mama, Vallabh mama would bring home large slabs of ice wrapped in kantaan (jute fabric) . They would load it up into a Ghoda-Gadi (the horse drawn Victorias of that time). The ice would be washed at home and then used to chill the ras.
The Kishore Bhuvan jamanvars used to be major events. There were 4 of them each year. And everyone (meaning mom) looked forward to each of them. There was one during the Ras no Galo, another during Diwali, one on her grandfather's death anniversary which was on Kali Chaudas which is the day before Diwali - man that must have been a lot of feasting around Diwali.
The fourth was when Kanta foi (who lived in Patan) came to town. It was always a major celebration when she came. For Kanta foi was bhai's youngest sister. She had a great zest and enthusiasm for the good things in life, and ba and bhai always wanted to make her time in Bombay special. So there would be things like Thandai and other special treats that were made up Kanta foi was around. Her visits provided a good break from the ordinary routine and was looked forward to with great anticipation and always included many trips to the ice factory.
Speaking of ice factories, Papa, who spent much of his middle-school years tagging along with his grandfather - the Judge, had a very different kind of experience. He recalls summers in Sahranpur, a town that lies somewhere between Haridwar and Rishikesh. The Judge was advising or associated with a wealthy land owner who owned many mango orchards, gardens, elephants and ice factories! They would ride out on elephant back into the mango orchards and do a "pick-your-own" mangoes - kinda like what we do with strawberries and apples in New York, though its not so grand without the elephants - they would eat whatever they wanted right inside the orchard. Baskets of mangoes would be collected and sent to the ice factory and the chilled mangoes were eaten later in the evening or transported to Agra for the rest of the family.
Today, we send my driver Suresh out in a car to fetch the mangoes from either the Star Bazaar or the fruit vendor who plies his trade on a cart in the Sixth Block in Koramangala. We stick them in the refrigerator once they are ripe and then mummy peels and cubes them for us, and we eat it with a fork. These stories may span 70 years, but they still have the same constants - chilled mangoes and good times.
Thursday, April 29, 2010
City Life – Kandivali Style
Bombay – the Gateway to India and the riches of the East India Company is a city that sits on India’s west coast. In the late 1800s and early 1900s the British invested a lot of money in the city’s infrastructure turning it into a magnet for the young and the ambitious.
Several young men came to Bombay to find their fortunes. Many of them came from little villages and towns from the State of Gujarat. And most of them found their way to a little part of town called Bhuleshwar. My maternal great grandfather was one of these young men. So also was my paternal grandmother's father. My mother grew up there, and my father spent a few years of his youth sleeping in the balcoy of one of Bhuleshwar's crammed tenements.
Over the years, Bhuleshwar transformed itself into one of India’s largest wholesale markets. And less than 150 years after it was formed, Bhuleshwar had burst at its seams, incapable of supporting the very large community of traders and commerce that it had given birth to.
It has been said, and not entirely in jest, that if you were to simply stand still in Bhuleshwar – you would soon find yourself in a different part of town, propelled there by the sea of humanity that inhabits it. In 1970, it had a density of 1500 people per acre (contrast that with .5 per acre in little known Stormville).
Several of the markets have been moved to other parts of town. And new generations of Gujaratis are moving out to the distant suburbs where they can have a little more room to raise their families.
Kandivali is one such suburb in Western Mumbai. Instead of the crammed 150 sq ft tenements, they now live in 1000 sq ft skyscrapers, most with little lawns and gardens. In the evening the men and women congregate in the compound in groups, recreating that lost sense of community they had in the old neighborhood.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in an area called Mahavir Nagar as I shuttle between my parents home and that of my sister-in-law. Actually, its probably even just a subset of Mahavir Nagar, because it is just one big block of buildings.
And I am fascinated by the mom-and-pop stores that line the streets. You can find everything one could possibly want in Mahavir Nagar. There is the grocery store that carries normal Guju vegetables as well as exotic things like mushrooms, asparagus and yellow peppers. There is the fruit store with its fruit juice vending area – hand squeezed in front of you mosambi juice for ten rupees or 25cents. Fresh jalebis, mithai, pau bhaji, the Bombay sandwich walla, vada pau, furniture, farsan, a dairy store, an optician, printing and copying shop, photographer, wedding supplies, supplies for a religious ceremony, dry goods, clothes, a liquor store that carries champagne, supplies for funerals – the list is only as short as my imagination.
I don’t feel like I’m in some big alien city – no the sounds, the smells it is all familiar, and strangely, despite my alien looks and clothes I feel a part of this community. My mom does too... perhaps it is just a more spacious, modern version of Bhuleshwar.
Several young men came to Bombay to find their fortunes. Many of them came from little villages and towns from the State of Gujarat. And most of them found their way to a little part of town called Bhuleshwar. My maternal great grandfather was one of these young men. So also was my paternal grandmother's father. My mother grew up there, and my father spent a few years of his youth sleeping in the balcoy of one of Bhuleshwar's crammed tenements.
Over the years, Bhuleshwar transformed itself into one of India’s largest wholesale markets. And less than 150 years after it was formed, Bhuleshwar had burst at its seams, incapable of supporting the very large community of traders and commerce that it had given birth to.
It has been said, and not entirely in jest, that if you were to simply stand still in Bhuleshwar – you would soon find yourself in a different part of town, propelled there by the sea of humanity that inhabits it. In 1970, it had a density of 1500 people per acre (contrast that with .5 per acre in little known Stormville).
Several of the markets have been moved to other parts of town. And new generations of Gujaratis are moving out to the distant suburbs where they can have a little more room to raise their families.
Kandivali is one such suburb in Western Mumbai. Instead of the crammed 150 sq ft tenements, they now live in 1000 sq ft skyscrapers, most with little lawns and gardens. In the evening the men and women congregate in the compound in groups, recreating that lost sense of community they had in the old neighborhood.
I’ve been spending a lot of time in an area called Mahavir Nagar as I shuttle between my parents home and that of my sister-in-law. Actually, its probably even just a subset of Mahavir Nagar, because it is just one big block of buildings.
And I am fascinated by the mom-and-pop stores that line the streets. You can find everything one could possibly want in Mahavir Nagar. There is the grocery store that carries normal Guju vegetables as well as exotic things like mushrooms, asparagus and yellow peppers. There is the fruit store with its fruit juice vending area – hand squeezed in front of you mosambi juice for ten rupees or 25cents. Fresh jalebis, mithai, pau bhaji, the Bombay sandwich walla, vada pau, furniture, farsan, a dairy store, an optician, printing and copying shop, photographer, wedding supplies, supplies for a religious ceremony, dry goods, clothes, a liquor store that carries champagne, supplies for funerals – the list is only as short as my imagination.
I don’t feel like I’m in some big alien city – no the sounds, the smells it is all familiar, and strangely, despite my alien looks and clothes I feel a part of this community. My mom does too... perhaps it is just a more spacious, modern version of Bhuleshwar.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
No More Books ?
Read an article today about how the iPad and the Kindle are changing the book publishing indusry completely. I must confess to feeling rather sad by the news.
For despite all my talk about a paperless office and how we must embrace technology, I like having my stories delivered to me in a good sized book. There is a sense of comfort, a sense of taking me back to a favorite place, that a book delivers, that I've just not been able to get with a digital book. Perhaps because the book is there even after the power fails, the book is not as fragile as the digital version, and it takes effort to destroy. Perhaps that is why it conveys a sense of permanence and authoritythat I have not been able to get from a digital book.
And yet, have I really tried ? Do I really know what the digital book has to offer, and how it could change my reading experience ?
I saw a Kindle once and loved it. I had no use for it, because the Amazon network has not extended to India, so it would be a pretty static library out here.
Perhaps it is the return to India that has allowed me to get a grip on the mad dash to digitality and appreciate the more traditonal or legacy stuff.
Whatever it is, I do know, that when I dreamed of writing a book - I intended for it to be a paper book, one that I could hold in my hand and display, not a digital version. And then again - I'm having so much fun blogging!
For despite all my talk about a paperless office and how we must embrace technology, I like having my stories delivered to me in a good sized book. There is a sense of comfort, a sense of taking me back to a favorite place, that a book delivers, that I've just not been able to get with a digital book. Perhaps because the book is there even after the power fails, the book is not as fragile as the digital version, and it takes effort to destroy. Perhaps that is why it conveys a sense of permanence and authoritythat I have not been able to get from a digital book.
And yet, have I really tried ? Do I really know what the digital book has to offer, and how it could change my reading experience ?
I saw a Kindle once and loved it. I had no use for it, because the Amazon network has not extended to India, so it would be a pretty static library out here.
Perhaps it is the return to India that has allowed me to get a grip on the mad dash to digitality and appreciate the more traditonal or legacy stuff.
Whatever it is, I do know, that when I dreamed of writing a book - I intended for it to be a paper book, one that I could hold in my hand and display, not a digital version. And then again - I'm having so much fun blogging!
Friday, April 2, 2010
The Yoga Lesson
Dhruti, the intrepid niece that got me blogging, sent me a link to Home Yoga instructors in Bangalore. People who would come to your house and teach you yoga. "Its the only way," she said , "that you will excercise. So go and do it. " I read her email, felt good and moved on to the next email.
She called me up the day after mom and dad arrived and reminded me - "Did you call those people... ?" Since the right arm, shoulder and neck was suffering from a severe case of mouse-itis an affliction resulting from overworking the mouse (on a computer keyboard), I thought I should do something. What have I to lose ? I'll hate them anyway and that will be the end of it.
The instructors arrived the next morning to introduce themselves, discuss and negotiate. The yoga lessons started a day later. I got suddenly very interested when I heard that one of Supriya's skills is Yoga Nidra - the aspect of Yoga that helps you get into a state of deep and relaxed sleep.
So she arrived yesterday, and we had a reasonably good session. Papa had his lesson, and came out feeling very energized and refreshed . She showed him excercises that started to get his blood circulating. But mummy was a whole different matter.
Mummmy showed Supriya all the excercises she had done that morning (since no one has actually witnessed her doing them, we don't know for sure - but then we have no reason to doubt her). Supriya said she thought that that was just enough for one day. She suggested a few improvement in techniques and then proceeded to discuss recipes, life and other more interesting things.
Mummy told me that she would prefer to have her Yoga lesson in the afternoon, cos the mornings seemed so packed!!! I told her that would be tough, cos i needed to have my lesson in the morning. She said she understood.
Supriya told me at the end of the yoga lesson, that mummy was going to give her cooking classes in the afternoon, and she would try to stop by 2-3 times a week, and no I did not need to pay extras, she was doing it cos she needed to learn how to cook!.
She called me up the day after mom and dad arrived and reminded me - "Did you call those people... ?" Since the right arm, shoulder and neck was suffering from a severe case of mouse-itis an affliction resulting from overworking the mouse (on a computer keyboard), I thought I should do something. What have I to lose ? I'll hate them anyway and that will be the end of it.
The instructors arrived the next morning to introduce themselves, discuss and negotiate. The yoga lessons started a day later. I got suddenly very interested when I heard that one of Supriya's skills is Yoga Nidra - the aspect of Yoga that helps you get into a state of deep and relaxed sleep.
So she arrived yesterday, and we had a reasonably good session. Papa had his lesson, and came out feeling very energized and refreshed . She showed him excercises that started to get his blood circulating. But mummy was a whole different matter.
Mummmy showed Supriya all the excercises she had done that morning (since no one has actually witnessed her doing them, we don't know for sure - but then we have no reason to doubt her). Supriya said she thought that that was just enough for one day. She suggested a few improvement in techniques and then proceeded to discuss recipes, life and other more interesting things.
Mummy told me that she would prefer to have her Yoga lesson in the afternoon, cos the mornings seemed so packed!!! I told her that would be tough, cos i needed to have my lesson in the morning. She said she understood.
Supriya told me at the end of the yoga lesson, that mummy was going to give her cooking classes in the afternoon, and she would try to stop by 2-3 times a week, and no I did not need to pay extras, she was doing it cos she needed to learn how to cook!.
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