"HOLI" The festival of clours

Holi is the festival of colours which is celebrated mostly in the northern parts of India, and the other parts of the world. It's a festival of love and warmth and is addressed as the "festival of colours". It comes, just, after the month of Basant, in Phalguni month. Basant is the month of Spring as per the Hindu Calendar, when flowers blooms spreading its fragrance in the air making it a best anecdotes for love and romance; and the whole atmosphere becomes full of passion and fervor. Thus, as believed, this marks the passion of love for Lord Krishna by Radha Rani. In Barsana, ( a town in Uttarpradesh )which is also the birth place of Radha Rani, an entire month, is dedicated (spent) to Holi celebration and is celebrated, honouring Radha Rani and Lord Krishna's pure love for eachother. The atmosphere being coloured thus, becomes beautiful  like a rainbow.

All said, I would now, take you all down my memory lane where I was just a little girl of 13yrs.

I am talking about the era of 70s-80s.  

As I had mentioned many times in my earlier posts about my house and it's surroundings, and about the main Market place, I would be focusing on it, and telling you all about it.

Due to the Holi festival the Market was crowded with hustle bustle and noise all around. The shops were adorned with colourful packets of colours, and "PICHKARI" ( it is a pump to fill coloured water to spray on each other as an ordeal of playing Holi). The other method of spraying coloured water is by filling balloons either with plain water or coloured water. People with little children would flock  the market place to buy colours, pichkari and balloons. I loved to watch all this from my balcony. 

On the day of Holi the streets would be full of "Maston ki toli " means group of people singing and dancing and throwing colours on eachother they will be just roaming around  with dholak baja, and bhajiya. And to sooth themselves, as well as their throats, they will be having thandai( Thandai is a sweetened milk made with almond and melon seeds paste,,). But, during Holi to make the festival more funny and humourous they add an addictive called "Bhang" It's learnt that this Bhang is such an addictive that if you laugh while sipping it down you will keep on laughing and if you're crying then you will cry your heart out. So mostly people being in festive mood just to play pranks, would be adding this in drink and passing on  to each other, all would be dancing and swaying in addiction, unknown  of the actual situation and their surroundings.

Now coming to my story, as penned down in my earlier posts, it's was, those, time when my home was filled with many people mostly my cousins all pranksters. The building opposite to ours were families with children who were mostly boys and all hardcore pranksters waiting for an opportunity to play pranks. The building was taller than ours, and thus their aim in throwing colours on us was very much easier and their sole intentions was to hurt us. Our terrace too would be filled with boys ( my cousins, and the only exception we three sis) no one could be recognised with the coloured faces and they all looked like jokers or zombies. We used to laugh our heart out throwing colours, singing  laughing loudly and playing Holi in a joyful way. But the people on the opposite building was creating nuisance by aiming us, and throwing balloons, filled with water. It's was really hurting. They were just enjoying our embarassment.

The flaw of this festival is that people with coloured faces unable to be recognised takes undue advantage of everything, eve teasing, and  bullying,  girls, if ,they are out, on the roads or at market places. They, then becomes, a true victim, to these assaults. So girls often do not go out to avoid the mishappenings. There is a saying too which is most popular and is commonly used by these road Romeos.(The sadak Chaps) ,"BURA NA MANO HOLI HAI" which means "please do not mind it's HOLI" . Taking this shield they harass girls. The same was happening with us from the other parties, on the terrace of the opposite building. Now my cousin brothers were fury with anger and they were in a mood to fight it though. First they started flying the balloons filled with water with good aims. It was hitting them but they started ducking now. Since the building was in height, their hideouts couldn't be seen.

My brothers were planning what to do next how to aim them properly, wherein my Amma (mother) came to us with eatables. She had bought a plate full of ripened jackfruit. We washed our hands and started hogging. Just at that moment seeing our silence, heads from the opposite building started popping out and lo! My cousin brothers got a lot of jackfruit peels and aiming a good aim they started throwing the peels just like gun shots. They  threw the hard skin of jackfruit on to their faces and what a good aim. Their faces were smeared with jackfruit pulp. And here my brothers started shouting " BURA NA MANO HOLI HAI" we too joined in making funny faces, what a "Holi" it was, how well we all played till afternoon in the festival mood.

My cousin brothers now decided to go to their office colleagues place for celebrations and masti. And guess what happened....

Most of  them returned laughing and mostly crying ......

 "BHANG KA NASHA CHAD CHUKA THA"

The "BHANG" had played it's tricks. ......

😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂😂

        "HOLI HAI "

Pic courtesy: Google Images 

Pic courtesy : Kasturi restaurant Kolkata 

" HELP "

Today on this International Women's Day, I dedicate my post to all those "HELP" around us who help us out to smoothen our day to day life.

The most important one being the House Maid or the Nanny.

Here I will  pen down about my daughter's Nanny BASANTI. I had written earlier, in my older post, "Chutki", about me, being a Govt. Servant and also, about an additional help, I will be referring her in this post.Since, I was hesitant to leave my child in a creche or daycare, I had taken an year long leave, along with my maternity leave, to look after my little baby, until I could find a good caretaker. As luck would have it, my distant relative arranged it for us. Basanti was a house help working for them. She used to work in many household to maintain her family of six children. Thus she insisted that she should be paid a good amount, as, from now on, she would have to leave all the rest of the  household jobs.  Since she was trustworthy and has been working at my cousin's house for a long time, we agreed to her demand.

Basanti came to our home to care for my little angel. She was an eight month's old baby just learning to sit. We kept an additional help to do the mopping, dusting, washing,and  cleaning the utensils. I had asked Basanti not to do any other house hold work . She was advised, to just, focus, on my Chutki. I was at ease when I handed over my baby to her. I joined my duty with a peaceful  mind. I was sure my baby is in safe hands. 

Basanti looked after my child well. I missed out most of my child's earlier years of growing up. She tackled her teething, her first step, her babbling, all missed out by me. Now the time had arrived for my baby 's admission to the kindergarten. Here too Basanti was a great help. She would come early and would accompany my little angel to her Kindergarten in her school bus and would wait outside till the school gets over. 

We never give a heed to these things, we often take them ( people like Basanti) for granted,  " oh so what they are paid na", without realising the value of those moments and the sacrifices they have done to protect our child's well being. I am really greatful to God to have send this good soul to us to help us out in the need of the hour.

Basanti was with us till my daughter started going to college. She took immense care in her adolescence her higher studies, tensions, mood swings, carrying her to her tution classes her extra caricular activities. All she carried out well.

She had to leave due to her health conditions and plus her son's too were now working and her financial conditions improved so they too didn't wanted her to work any more. 

She is still in touch with us,me, and my daughter, makes an effort, to visit,  her place, once a year, to checkout on her whereabouts, and well being.

Like her there are so many out there, helping us out. Like the Jadu Pocha wali, Koodawali, Dhoban, Sweeper, ........so many.

God bless them all without their help we all would have been in a chaotic situation and our back would have been bend under the overburdened work. 

They are our unsung heroes who play a vital role in our life.

A big salute🙋‍♀️ to these women who help us out unconditionally.

XxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxX

Label: Tribute 

Pic courtesy: Google Images 

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Chembu kootaan( Taro roots curry)

 Ingredients 

1. Taro roots   : 1/2 kg

2.  Turmeric powder: 1/2 teaspoon 

3. Chilli powder: 1 teaspoon 

4. Shallots or small onions chopped ( 1/2 cup)

5. Curry leaves a few

6. Coconut oil for tampering : 2 table spoon

7. Salt to taste

8. Water : for boiling 

Method:

Clean the Taro roots well. Remove the skin. Cut it into small pieces. Mom used to make this in ( kal chetti) black stone vessel. You can try out in clay pots too or the easy way in cooker. Add the washed cleaned and cut Taro roots in the vessel add turmeric powder, chilli powder, salt and water. Water should be  1 inch above the taro. It should be well soaked. Now boil the whole thing until it's soft and mushy. Check the salt. Add curry leaves and remove from fire.

If you are making in a cooker add the taro roots cut into pieces chilli powder, turmeric powder and salt with two cups water and boil until four whistle. Cool it down open the lid and add curry leaves.

Now for the tempering, heat a small pan add two table spoon coconut oil when hot add the chopped onions or shallots, fry until brown. Add this tempering to the boiled taro mixture. Mix well and your curry is ready to be eaten with steamed rice.

Best accompaniment is lemon pickle.

Cherish this curry with hot steamed rice, roasted papad and lemon pickle.

Label: Mom's Delight 

The Birthday

What does a birthday actually mean? Is it just a day to celebrate one's birth? Or is it a reminder of one's accountability on this earth? Or is it a ticking time bomb? Or is it a calling for bonds, bonding, and binding? I think it's all of these, but bonds, bonding, and binding are the most prominent.

The birth of a child in a family is a calling for celebration, as you welcome the new member who has just landed on planet Earth. The child doesn't bear a name or identity at birth. They are just a child with a throbbing heart. Within hours, the child is introduced to their mother, who bore them in her womb for nine months. Next, they meet their father, whose name will be their identity in this materialistic world.

This bundle of joy is now adored by maternal and paternal grandparents, uncles and aunts, and, of course, cousins. Within weeks, the child is given a name with their parents' taglines. The life journey has begun, and the child is cycling through the cycle of birth, bearing an identity with parents and relatives.

The child, now a tender flower in the basket of relationships, is basking in the bonds, bonding, and binding. They are now bonded with the rope of parental love and tangled in it. A year passes, and it's time to celebrate the child's birth as their birthday. The bonds are tightening now.

The child is introduced to extended families and the outside world, entering the world of bonding. With much pomp and show, the birthday is celebrated by the parents as a part of their prestige. As a one-year-old, the child can't even recognize what a celebration is about, but unknowingly gets affixed into the world of pride and prestige.

The child is now in the shackles of their parents' identity and pride. Years pass, and the child becomes a teenager. The pride and prestige are no longer their cup of tea. They want to break free from the shackles and proceed on their journey of self-recognition.

Alas, in this journey of self-recognition, the human is again bonded and affixed into further relationships, but still unable to break through the shackles of their birth and find their true identity. As the years phase out, the human starts counting their accountability and credits to this world, not realizing they are moving towards the ticking time bomb.

Time has taken a toll on their health, and they are nearing the ticking time bomb, which is getting ready to explode at any moment. With every passing year, I too am getting nearer to the ticking time bomb. I don't know if I can fulfill my accountability to this materialistic world, but I am counting my blessings, which I have through relationships, bonds, and bonding. Time is phasing out... hoping to celebrate another birthday ahead.

Label : Emotional expression 

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The batch

A year had been passed since I have penned down a post on my blog. A complete block. Nothing was recollecting in my memory. I felt lost. 

I am bouncing back now and am taking you all once again to my memory lane.

This time the lane is towards my career.  

I,alongwith, my graduation, had appeared for the All India Staff Selection Examination, for a Govt. Job. This was as per the guidance of my dear husband. He was very passionate of me graduating and getting a Govt job. As luck would have it and also by the Grace of God I got selected in the examination and got a Govt. Job in Delhi.

My whole family was thrilled as well as sad at the same time. My Amma and Accha was sad since I was going far away to an unknown place. I was now a mother too, to a year old boy. The sorrow of separation was very much overwhelming.  In all these emotional scenario, my husband was the strongest, in control of emotions, and was guiding us to be practical, he asked us to think, the overall benefits,  a Govt. Job can give.

He wasn't a bit afraid of the hardships I and he might face in an unknown state. Thus with his undeterred  determination we decided to move ahead.

I came along with my Acchan, to Delhi, to join my duty, leaving behind my son, an year old little boy, and also my husband, who could possibly, join me, to this new place, only, if he gets a transfer. Thus both my husband and son stayed back in my maternal home.

Since it was the All India Staff Selection Examination, many candidates from different States too, had come over, to join the Govt Department. Thus a whole batch from Kerela, Tamilnadu, Andhra Pradesh, Uttarpradesh Kolkata were, there, to join their duties. We were a batch of 80 candidates. The lobby of the Government office, seemed to me as a College corridor, with all youngsters, who were nearly, at the age of just  21-22 only, with full aspirations. All, together, at one place, to become a govt. servant. We all introduced each other, as well as, were, also trying, to find our own comfort zones. I was the only one who was married and a mother too. Thus a slight hesitant behaviour of mumble jumble towards me was evident. They all weren't fully confident with local language and thus to have a fluent conversation with the officials was difficult for them. Since, I  had come from Kolkata I was well conversant with the Hindi language, the local language.  

I tried to figure out their language problems and tried to help them in regard to their appointment letters, joining letter, and their posting. A ray of hope of friendship bloomed and all slowly became close to me.

The HR officials confirmed our joining and also about a month long waiting period, for posting us to different offices. Thus we all had plenty of time in our hands, to explore the city and also to know each other well. All were in search of a place to stay. Girls and boys were rushing to find hostels. Me being married couldn't get a place in the Girls hostel. Thus I was in search for a rental accommodation.

In the meantime my father -in-law came as an aid to me and found out a distance relative with whom I can be accommodated till my husband's arrival and until we find a new rented house. Thus me and Acchan reached their place of stay with my baggage. They were really a good souls and with no further questions readily agreed to help me stay with them. I stayed with them for three months or more. I became a family member to them sharing my insecurities and all the ups and downs, together we were bonded into  a strong bond. I will put down in details of this in some other posts.

Now my gang( our batch )of youngsters decided to utilise our time in hand in exploring, doing masti and also to learn the local language. We all would gather in the lobby and would March towards the canteen. The tea and bread pakoda was really excellent, and we all would gorge to the fullest. We all will just forget about Hindi and would chit chat full on, in Malayalam, all hustle bustle and also creating a big disturbance to others. But neigh, who bothered we were into our jolly good moods. All youth bubbling out.

People used to call us " Hey Madrasi"  dabbe mein kankad bajana band kar " they used to interpret our Malayalam language as shaking a tin filled with pebbles, (just imagine the  noice it might create!!). They sensed the same with our language, and would, always, taunt us. A rift started building up with North Indian and South Indians. And we distanced ourselves avoiding tiffs.

But as the saying goes " Pani mein rah kar magarmach se beir," ( means staying in water you cannot be an enemy to a crocodile 🐊 ) we gradually became their close associate and assistant too.

We became a close nit family and were there for each other in any calamities and also in celebrations. We all got our posting and were posted in different offices in the city. Our holidaying came to an end and all were into positioning their own duties. So much humour too, went through learning the local language, such as, someone hopping on to the bus going to Lal Quila and asking  whether this bus will go to Red Fort. Some going to the market to buy onions and instead of saying "1kilo pyaz de do" saying "1 kilo pyar de do" and facing the embarassment, and someone holding on tightly to the Hindi language and addressing Post Office as Dak Khana, "Dak Khana kaha hai" and all into  🤔❗❗ faces. All these, were, real fun.

A decade has gone now, and on this journey we lost our two valuable colleagues. We celebrated intercaste marriage and marriage between our colleagues. House warming, Children, Birthdays, Children's Marriage and what not.. 

All now taking a U turn towards exit ( all into retirement ages, and within a span of two years our batch would be disbursed) again to ones own destination. 

The journey continues......... with dreams to an another openings ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

NB :  

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Independent

How can one define Independence and being Independent. This is definitely a word which will transform into various meaning and measure in accordance to the understanding one has or have to this word. It may differ according to one's experience in life and may add a gist to it.

In this post I would be focusing on such aspects which touched my heart and opened a new meaning to me. Once again traveling through the memory lane.

This is the era of 70s and 80s. Online shopping and door to door delivery may be the new concept today,  but I  have experienced this door to door delivery concept in my childhood itself. " Chawal wali" (Moni Maa) She was called thus. She was the one who used to bring sacks of rice to our home every month. As I had mentioned earlier my family was huge with extended members thus consumption of food too was in large quantities, and, as such, Acchan had arranged for regular supply of the commodities. (Moni Maa) was a drak fragile lady with a pleasant aura. She used to adorn saree in traditional bengali way. Clean bright starched cotton saree.  Her presence was a pleasing to the eyes. Amma too loved her presence. Moni Maa was a monthly visitor to us. She would come to our house for delivering the sack of 🌾 rice.  Along with  rice she would be carrying her harvest of vegetables and eggs too. So we used to get  some fresh farm picked vegetables to relish. She used to stay in the outskirts of the city and would travel all the way to the city in train to deliver her goods. She would arrive early in the morning by 7am and would sit down for a chit chat for hours.  Amma would come to know about the outside world and updates of her village life and about other harvest etc through her chit chatting. She will spend hours sitting in our terrace doing small chores thus helping Amma, lighten her burden that day. Amma used to give her food and tea. Sometimes she used to pamper us with an oil massage and would comb our hair, singing  songs. The famous viral song 🎶" Bade loger beti re lamba lamba chool🎶 which was booming now days was the one which I had listened very very early during my childhood days from this " Chawal wali" it's actually a folk song. She would be brimming with joy, while  singing out these songs to us. After finishing all these chores, she will measure the required kilograms of rice, needed by Amma, and would transfer the same to the large storage drums. She would take leave after getting her payment from Amma. Thus almost a whole day would be spent by her in our house with a good exchange of talks on related things. 

On those days I never used to give heed to these people who would be visiting my house. It was just normal to me. Amma and her buddies was the name given by me. I never used to realise their hardship. It was only when I started working did I knew,  that no matter what; all other persons/ people out there on the road, whether big or small is all, into earning their livelihood and living. This famous song "lamba lamba chool" brought into my memory the "Chawal wali" and her hardship, and me into a new realisation. To get her life going she was into this duty of selling rice all the way from her village to the city. For she knew very well that she can earn more in the city, rather than in her village. Wasn't this, her independent thinking, wasn't she capable of nurturing her family. Wasn't she enjoying a free spirited moments while visiting houses and chitchatting. The most important part of all this was the decision made by her to do something for her family, instead of begging for alms. That's real independence and being independent, I would say. The independence to think, to act, and to survive. I feel really proud thinking now, that, she though being an illiterate was able to keep track of account of her goods and selling, and thus helped her family from starving and begging.

Education gives us a more way of dignified life and way of thinking, no doubt.  But I salute all those people out there, who all are putting efforts to make a living with what ever abilities and capabilities they have instead of relying on begging and looting. To me this is being independent and independence.

Now time has changed with new level of technology and education. People have understood the importance of education and are giving importance to studies and also into living a dignified life. More and more people are into working and earning. Better independent thinking whether you are a men or a women has transformed the world and countries into  growing nations.

Free your self  and be yourself.

xxx...............xxx............xxx

Pic courtesy: Google images 

Chutki

In this post, I would now highlight the pranks played by my chutki ( my angel my daughter).

My little angel arrived in my life as a surprise as well as a gift. My son was born in Kolkata and I was a homemaker busy with studying, job application, and attempting govt employment exams. Lucky enough I cleared the All India  based Staff Selection Examination and got into a Government job in Delhi. 

Me and family shifted to Delhi. Now the main concern was a lookout for a creche for my son who was just 2 yrs old then. The area where we stayed didn't have any government creche so we had to put our son in the local creches run mainly by homemakers. We were just settling down with all these new hustle bustle and as such the idea of having a second child was far far behind. Our whole focus was now, on our only child, how to take care of him, with all the love and care, was our priority, since, we both were working parents, and also due to shortage of valuable time. Time was running with a quick pace and now we focused to move from rentals to having our own house. This by the grace of God happened in the year 1994 and our happiness knew no bounds when we received our little angel in this house the next year. Our angel is a gift to us from God and a blessing of our new home. Our Laxmi has arrived.

My little master who is now 9yrs, all of sudden became bro daddy. He was all concerned and caring of his little sister. My Govt job too gave me ample opportunity to have leave and to be with my children. I took a long unpaid leave for a year to look after my little angel, and now the concern was to look out for a nice caretaker, for both children. I didn't want to put my tiny tot into a creche, as I have had a bad experience;  my poor boy suffered a lot of bullying etc. So I wanted to be cautious this time. Luckily with the help of my cousins (good hearted people) I got a good caretaker for my chutki. I was tension free and joined my duty with ease.

Life was moving on busy with routine schedules. My chutki too was growing up, she is now a 2 yrs old bubbly chubby . She has started doing all odd things children usually do. Putting fingers in sockets, climbing everywhere possible, catching hold of the things which is not reachable, hanging over, on to sofa and chair edges, and eating such eatables, like chocolates, butter,(she loved butter) cheese slices etc., which is not meant for her.

I had an habit of hogging on something eatable after coming from office. I would be dead hungry by the time I returned back so after freshening up,  I would just try out something to eat going quickly into the Kitchen. This routine of mine was well aware to chutki.

It so happened that my chutki was down with stomach upset and slight fever. As I said she liked to have the food which I would be having she would catch hold on to my plate to see what I am having, since she was small I avoided giving her, any spicy or oily food. Her food was light with veggies. She loved butter a lot. She would sneek into kitchen, pull the fridge door open and would have butter slyly. Since she was sick I was very cautious about  her sneeking into kitchen, so I tried to ajar the door slightly while cooking.

This happened one such day me as usual after coming from office rushed into the kitchen to make something to crush my hunger pangs. Sadly that day I had only bread and butter in fridge. To avoid chutki from coming into the kitchen I just slightly ajar the door of the kitchen. My little master was sound asleep in his bedroom and my caretaker too, took her leave and went home. I was busy making my plate of bread and butter when the door got shut behind my back. I turned around to unlock the door and lo! to my surprise I was locked inside the kitchen: my chutki has locked me inside with good latch locking. I was banging on the door asking her to open. But the poor thing could not, understand or knew how to open. My little master was sound asleep and was in his dream world. I had no idea what to do. How to get out. At that time we didn't have any neighbour. And moreover since I was working I rarely met anyone in my apartment thus didn't knew anyone. We were staying on the top floor my sound would not reach anywhere even if I shout out from the Kitchen window. My banging on the door has now startled my chutki and she,  started crying 😭. I was trying to pacify her from inside since she could not see me she was howling more. I was now fully drenched with sweat no fan in the kitchen, hot and humid. There was no mobile phone at that time.  I was completely perplexed. I tried calling out to my son loudly. My poor thing was in deep sleep, he could not hear me.

As luck would have it I didn't locked the main wooden entrance door. The entrance, net grill door was latched, and the balcony net grill door too was opened. Since it was so hot I had kept the windows and doors of the hall, facing balcony, open. I think God heard my prayers. My hubby dear was a late comer. His job was demanding, and he usually reaches home by 9pm only. Luckily on that day he came early. He reached by 7pm. He can see my chutki crying through the net door. He had rung the bell too, hearing the sound of bell I knew someone was at the door, he called out to me,  I told him that I am locked inside the kitchen and chutki is not able to unlatch the lock. He had a good presence of mind. He called chutki near him through the door. She was the darling of Papa and listened to him too. She had a lovely cute red chair which was her favourite. He asked her to bring that to the door. Chutki lovingly bought that to the door. He asked her to climb on to it. She did so, now from outside, he showed her to unlock the latch with action, on the latch other side, he was instructing her to unlatch the lock....khecho molu dheere dheere krick....krick karte jao molu. She did everything shown by him and oh God the latch was unlocked. He just got inside quickly hugged chutki profoundly and rushed to the kitchen unlocked it and brought me out. I was completely drenched with sweat and was exhausted. I rushed to the bedroom to rest clutching my angel to my bosom.

That was a lesson to us. After this we covered all the sockets and all the latch locking holes with paper and cello tapes.

My chutki my quite cuddle did the unexpected and had us a real time. My Kumbakaran(my little master)too got good  bashing from his daddy. The day ended thus with all careful and necessary arrangements to tackle future commotions.

My chutki is now a damsel.