RSS Feed

Category Archives: Memoir

नानी ( Nani) A Tribute

Some weeks are hurricanes. They don’t give you time even to breathe. one thing after another more like chaos leading to chaos. First I fell sick and could not be in blogosphere for a very long period and then this 19th I lost my Grandmother ( maternal) my Nani, she as around 94.

How fast is becomes was…. sad and scary.

Nani ( Amma)

Nani (  Amma for every one,which means Mother) to me meant every thing good and comforting, her white Saree’s with thin borders, faint sweet smell of pink Vaseline, spic and span house everything in place , everything in order, her yummilicious pickles and marmalade’s and my beautiful summer vacations. she was an excellent cook and a giver. She lived for others, a beautiful generous resilient soul..no hurdle or hurricane could dampen her spirit and energy. Even in her last days the invictus in the frail body would get up and do things on her own as much as possible.
 Nani I will miss you a lot and up there amongst the brightest stars where I think I saw you yesterday, I wish you happiness and peace.
My Mom wrote a beautiful tribute and a haiku for my Nani. And when I was reading what she wrote about her mom I felt this was exactly how I felt about her( my mother), Supportive, encouraging, inspiring, best teacher,  gossip mate, fun friend and a lovely blogger.
she is a beautiful heart. Do stop by at her blog whenever you get time to read the tributes.
Amma-Mother
Haiku-Mother
she is unpredictable ( in a good way) like me, today she wrote a poem on me. It is so funny and those who know me will agree it is a perfect description of this insane,eccentric silly  person that I am.
I am posting a verse of the poem here please do go to her blog to read the rest.
A Naughty Daughter’s Tale
“She knows everything,
Frogs don’t dream
Giraffe can’t scream
Snakes can’t hear
Crocodiles have tear
She knows everything,
Lions like chocolate mousse
Pythons drink carrot juice
Rabbits can climb the tree
Tigers watch movie if it’s free……..”
**********
Wish you a lovely week  friends and don’t forget to call/hug you loved ones and tell them how much you love them. Cos you really never know when you will never get that chance to share that again ever…..

The Lambretta Girl

This is a story
Story of the Lambretta Girl
But tell her that and she would tell you to change the title to story of a girl whose Father had a lambretta.
Ok,Fine whatever the title,this story has two heroes,the Girl and The Lambretta.
This girl was born on 16th of may on summer of 73 to Parents who knew just one way to live life-to be alive and aware at all times.
she grew up in a house where giving,sharing and caring for others was as normal and as easily done as breathing.
They used to travel a lot,short or long trips,meeting relatives, trekking,morning walks,going to shopping in the nearby city,you name it..
They would just get up,take whatever needed and go out to celebrate life.
That was where and this was how she learned to live life.
And although trekking and morning walks were fun,nothing could ever come close to when she would stand in the front space of lambretta or share the front seat with her Dad.
Oh the joy when you zoom past all that is on either side of the road
the air greets you first,the rush
you see the scenery and the people first,the pride
and you fight demons and creatures from the other world clearing the road for your father,the victory.
It was something else,had everything, great stories are made of.
And in those rides sometimes her parents would take a pause in a mango garden which was en-route to the city,where under the trees were Dragons to be killed,fairies to be freed and people waiting to be rescued, A warriors work is never done she would often say.
And when finally her royal carriage-The Lambretta, would land in the city, they would be greeted by all the earthlings,given royal salutes and grand welcome.
And while her parents would get busy shopping,she would help as many people as she could with one hand cos her mom or dad would never let her out of sight and hold her hand the entire time.
Things would get difficult ,try sword fight with one hand while one of your parents is holding your other arm.But she would never give up,after all it was her kingdom.
And one day and she wont be able to tell you the exact date,but when events are this unfortunate and heart wrenching who remembers the date,right?
This day she was asked to start sitting on the back seat( do I hear gasps and cries?)
Her father told her she had grown tall and now she would have to vacate that dream seat for her little brother.
Oh imagine the shock
Did I hear someone saying what’s the big deal,it’s not a big problem?
hey problems cannot and should not be compared ever,Had she heard you she would tell you that and hundreds of stories about how each problem is big in its own way and how she could never ever tell which one hurt more,a thorn or math.
Argue with that?
Oh how she wanted to tell her parents,what a big mistake they were making in giving the prestigious and most dangerous seat to her little brother,who not only couldn’t fight like her but also had no idea what a great thing day dreaming was!
who would save the world now,and if the news gets to the underworld and it would she knew that,those creatures would rise again and this time with renewed strength.
Finally the day came when she had to sit in the carrier of the scooter,which was the last seat and mostly used by people to carry inane things.Oh the shame,she hid her face with her mom’s Saree and didn’t/couldn’t enjoy the ride at all.
All the demons were laughing and the earthlings were looking at her with pity.
No,this can’t be happening she thought,she had to take control,she had a  world to save.
so she thought why not save the world from here,the last seat and make the three people sitting before her,her  bodyguards,after all she was a warrior princess,she could afford some of them,couldn’t she?
and soon law and order was restored in her kingdom and people were told princess was back and this time with bodyguards.
You may think of this as a silly story…
No problem, The Lambretta Girl would not take offence,simply cos super heroes cannot/do not explain how they saved zillions of life and not ever,even for once blow their own trumpet.
so think what you want to and say what you want to,for  only the Girl with Lambretta knows how many times she flew across continents to save you life
For she is
Oh she is
Wow she is
The Lambretta girl
And she would stand in the front
Or sit in the back
And fight the demons
And save the world
For she is
Oh she is
Wow she is a
The Lambretta girl
She would look ordinary
And dress up like a commoner
And her weapons would be invisible
But her strikes would be powerful
For she is
Oh she is
Wow she is
The Lambretta Girl
Under the dining table lies her kingdom
And Lambretta is her royal ride
And whenever you need her help
Just shout help me oh Lambretta girl
For she is
Oh she is
Wow she is
The Lambretta girl
And she will reach you fast
And fight for you
And stand by you
Till you hug her good-bye
For she is 
Oh she is
Wow she is
The Lambretta girl
So this is a story of a Lambretta and a girl
The girl not so girl like
A tomboy
Climbing up trees
And playing with sand and mud
A misfit
Bad in studies
Good in dreaming
Would choose to be a warrior than be a princess
And oh Yes that’s me.

Lata

You can learn many things from children.  How much patience you have, for  instance.  ~Franklin P. Jones
A child can ask questions that a wise man cannot answer.  ~Author Unknown

My parents learnt all these and much more way earlier without reading any quotes,courtesy me
I have a brother ( 2 yrs 3 months younger than me…  a noticeable and respectable age difference which he never respected and we fought like vampires and werewolves)both of us were naughty but I was always full of questions even the most learned mind could not answer
like when I was 3 or may be 4 years old I once asked my parents if taxi grows up and becomes a bus
and then once  I asked my mom how the kid sitting behind me in the class could come first ( hey I sat in the first bench braving the questions,I had rights!)
but of course with each passing year the questions became more and more tougher and challenging…
Soon we were at the age when you would trust your friends, teachers and your parents in exact order
so when your friend told babies were dropped at the door steps or their parents killed postman you would have no reason not to believe them cos …well got to trust friends
In fact no one would even challenge whatever was being told in the class  and/or share all these top class information with any outsider( like parents and siblings)
so by the time we were in 3rd std. all of us were believing in a lot of things-
like every vacant house is haunted
or schools and hospitals are always built on a graveyards
or any new girl or boy is your enemy till they give you one extra candy on their birthday
or the person who did not cross fingers in time was the one who farted..
you know the usual…
and while we were growing up believing and  inventing things that had Einstein and Newton turning in their graves…. God was busy planning much bigger events as he clearly wanted more entertainment.
 so when we were in 3rd Std. he sent his special agent Lata
Now lata came into our life when  all the best friends, buddy groups were well established
loyalties were fixed( except Birthdays) and sworn on ..
but there was something about this girl that soon every one started following her.
when it came to writing an essay on my best friend no one would write about her
 but if lata said Our physics teacher was a vampire( something which she didn’t and you all know I am much more capable of spreading such news) every one would believe in it,no questions asked.
lata was quite a story teller and almost every day she would make up stories about something and that’s what made her so interesting..
Things none of us knew about, scary, funny, magical things
And within a period of 3 months she had spun a huge web of interesting ‘facts’ and stories and we were all hooked on to the web..
But of all the stories she ever told us the most interesting one and the one which has remained our top favourite to this day was  MAKE ERASER AT HOME
With Lata around,every day was interesting but this one season was bubbling with  information..
In every class some one was busy telling,adding more to the eraser recipe and in our class it was Lata..
we pleaded and gave her candies for this extremely valuable information and so started project eraser..
Lata told us to collect pencil shavings for entire week and then boil in a cup of milk till it was  thick and keep it out in moulds to dry for “exactly 3 days” for anymore drying would make eraser  brittle!
So after writing down each and every process in detail that day we all went home and tried it out
Yes dearies we all tried out our luck.. but no one could make it.
 But who would tell that to Lata !!
So after 3 days each of us went to school with a new eraser and told her and each other that the method had worked and from now on we too  will never have to buy erasers.
Am sure of all the people Lata had ever laughed at we were the ones who really made her ROFL.
Unfortunately for us she changed school next year and we never saw her again.
whenever I see kids making up stories and sharing tall tales can’t stop  wondering what more we could have learnt had Lata continued in the same school.
Every time I meet some old friend we invariably end up talking about her and have a good laugh …at our stupidity of course.
last heard she still lives in Itarsi( where we grew up) and has two kids… am sure all of them are boiling milk and making erasers
All These memories just make travelling back so much fun..

As the story goes…

“Stories are a nutritional group.A balanced diet must have music,stories, outdoor playing along with other groups like vitamins and protiens.”
                                                 -somkritya:-)
As  promised in the previous post of Memoirs-  Magical Summers
I am going to share some stories but since this is going to be
 the very first of the series..it has to be grand…what say:-)
Nothing gives me more pleasure than sharing stories, fictional or real…
specialy through memoir.It gives me a chance to relive those moments
I share with you all, to time travel in my dreams and play around in that magical world.
I come from a family of story tellers, my grandparents,uncles, aunts and parents irrespective of their professions were/are all great story tellers.
All we had to do was to ask..mama kahani sunao na( uncle please tell us a story) or thamma golpo shonao( grandmother tell us a story)
and they would begin a great story telling session- some real and
some fictional ones with great gusto……and it would not only make our days
 but give us great subjects to dream on..
This world is a magical place you know…all packed with mysteries.
you just have to unlock the right door or find someone who can…
and a new song a new story is all yours to enjoy…
And though I love reading books nothing can ever beat listening to stories told by grandmothers or uncles that too the cooked up ones…
Having said that there are some real life stories which have left a deep ever lasting impact on my soul.
One of them was told by my Dadu(Paternal Grandfather). And it was a real story  of my Great Grand Father.
They were zamidars( land lords) of a village Akaipur in 24 parganas in West Bengal and every season after harvesting paddy it would be stored in Dhaner gola( huge mud houses used to store paddy) 
One night my great grand father heard some noise and when he went out in the dark to check he saw some armed tribal men stealing Paddy from one of the bigger dhaner gola….
and the thief was not only stealing but also throwing paddy aiming at eyes of whoever went near to stop him.
My great-grandfather who was somewhere in his 20’s( boy did he have courage)told his men to cover all the exits  so that none of the robbers could escape.
He then wrapped his eyes with a cloth to protect them from paddy being thrown by the thief…..took two swords in his hand and started swishing it around the dhaner gola constantly reminding the thief he would not stop till the thief  surenders….initially the thief who seemed to know my Great Grand father asked him to back off ,threated him of consequences but when my great grand father did not relent ( and this went on for hours ) the thief  finally tired ,stretched his hands out of the small opening and surrendered..
Its said that the thieves( tribals from nearby land) were very well-built and good fighters themselves but when asked later why they didn’t escape or fight , the chief of that group said he had never seen such a gutsy young man in his life and out of respect he didnt cause my great grand father any harm.
what a story haan..Even today I get goose bumps whenever my father tells me the story..
whenever I hear such stories I try to imagine how that person must have looked like and if some movie hero fits the bill but this one story the image has no face…
no face has till now been able to do justice to the brave spirit of  this young man…may be because he was real..maybe putting a face would somehow notch down the magic…
how I wish I could go back in time and meet him….see my great-grandfather in action..understand where I am coming from, see the history of my parents….
I am so proud of my forefathers and more I find about their lives more I want to go back and meet the ones I did not…
may be one day there will be a time machine, may be one day this magical land of stories will bless me with a chance meeting……
But this story definitely explains the brave soul and spirit of my Father..who won several bravery awards for saving lives ,diffusing live detonators..
Both my parents are just awesome people who never hesitated standing for what is right …
Bravery runs in my Fathers blood and as for my moms brave spirit … I havent yet told you about her side…one day I will…
And I am their daughter:-)
%d bloggers like this: