And then…he offers me a solution. Pasta’s the answer people! Now why didn’t I think of this myself? Oh the beautiful simplicity of carbohydrates

Happy Tuesday People

My uncle, being  a long-standing diabetic and a recent sufferer of Parkinson’s, has always been particular about his health and my aunt’s one-point program has always been to look after him to the best of her abilities. She’s been devoted in that aspect and together they’ve managed to stave off major complications. Perhaps that’s why we were all so shocked when she called us late morning on the 5^th of Jan to tell us, they had taken him to hospital with breathlessness. I remember the moment with that peculiar clarity that seems to accompany such moments. Moments when you know that Life as you knew it is about to change and nothing is ever going to be quite the same again. Moments, that cause you to hold your breath and shut your eyes. Moments in which you find yourself praying (if you’re a believer and sometimes even if you’re not), and hoping that what you’re going to hear is not bad news, while your sixth sense is telling you that it is. The proverbial ‘sweaty palm moment’ before you decide on ‘Fight or Flight’. I’ve had my fair share of these and perhaps that’s why I recognized this one instantly and knew what I had to do.

I’m thankful that once I knew what I had to do, circumstances conspired so that I could indeed do it, not always a possibility. I’m referring to Ishaan of course and the fact that I would have to leave him with my Mom and Pushpa, while I travelled to my aunt’s side. My boy is a gem though and he sailed through with flying colors, barely missing me if my Mom is to be believed, and certainly not missing me nearly as much as I missed him! He made up for it though with much hugging and kissing and smiling on my return Good boy! But I digress.

The operation lasted approximately four hours, and I am happy to report that they were four relatively tension-free hours because we had such great company. This is when family needs to rise to the occasion and I’m glad & grateful to those that did, couldn’t have done it without them. I can now happily report that the operation was successful and that my uncle’s recovery has been without major hiccups. We’ve been lucky so far and all I wish for now is that our luck should hold and his recovery be completed without further complications. Minor hiccups are unavoidable though…aren’t they always? He’s been a little disoriented and drowsy because of low sodium levels, just like my Dad was after his hip surgery. It’s a very common post-operative imbalance in the elderly and one that you need to watch out for and keep in mind if you have older relatives. But the hospital has provided excellent care (unlike my Dad’s time) and things are getting better.

I spent most of days just being there for my aunt. We got to spend time together especially for the first two days when my uncle was in Intensive Care where no visits are allowed. We spoke like we always do about everything and nothing! And happily we found that we could still laugh together J I was even able to read two books. The Squire, His Knight and His Lady by Gerald Morris and The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein, both easy, enjoyable reads. I’ve had a lot of time to think too, while sitting around and waiting. So much of time spent in hospitals is about waiting. Waiting for doctors to arrive, for nurses to leave, for tubes to come out, for reports to come in, for tests and results, for evidence of recovery and signs of deterioration, waiting and watching and staying alert to every nuance, every change, imagined and unimagined in the patient’s condition.

I’ve been wondering about several things this past week. How are senior citizens in India expected to manage without any help or support in a medical emergency? It’s not like the Government has any infrastructure in place that will help, nor do I see such a service developing in the near future. India has so many burning issues right now, that the care and need of its older citizens, is hardly a priority. Sadly, I’m talking about this myself only because I am now surrounded by several aging family members, many of whom cannot expect help from family, whether by choice or through misfortune. I do hope though that someone, somewhere, who can do something, will take notice. I would love to be able to help somehow.

The visit also served as a prelude of our move to Bombay this summer, and it’s not a pretty picture. I didn’t expect it to be, but I am saddened by the speed with and the extent to which Bombay had deteriorated since we were last here seven years ago. The city is bursting at its seams and no one seems to care, not the people and certainly not the Government. Traffic is horrendous, hygiene non-existent and corruption rampant. These aren’t new problems, just old ones that seem to have strengthened their strangle-hold on this seamy Metropolis. It makes me sad, as I see Bombay being buried under her own debris. The spirit that all Mumbaikars are so proud of, apparently only surfaces in times of crises, and although I’m thankful for that, I wish it weren’t so.

Which brings me to another burning question…how do I adjust to living in a tiny two-bedroom apartment? More importantly, how does Ishaan, who’s lived his entire life in a sprawling bungalow with its own garden? Will he adjust to playing cricket in the narrow compound? Or will he get bored of the game, coz he’ll have to constantly check his shots to avoid breaking car windshields & apartment windows? How will he adjust to his new school, a large set-up as opposed to his present small family-like environment? That he’ll cry is a given, for how long is what worries me! Oh I know he’ll adjust eventually, we all will, it’s not like we have a choice. But it won’t be easy, and we don’t have to like it…which is what scares me. There is of course the bright side, thank goodness! All the advantages of living in a Metro will automatically be ours…better education, opportunities, healthcare…although sometimes I think that depends on every person’s personal definition of ‘better’. Our apartment although tiny is situated in a quiet lane (in itself a miracle in Bombay), and surrounded by the green tops of the surrounding coconut palms. It is not far from a couple of parks that will have to serve as Ishaan’s playgrounds. And Goa is just a 40 minute plane ride away Never thought I would be saying this, but I think I’m going to miss it more than I care to admit

So this has been an eye-opener of a trip. It’s brought me face to face with my own prejudices and fears, but also left me with the knowledge that every crisis can be overcome with the right attitude and approach. It’s not a new lesson, just an old one that has been reinforced and now sits deep & comfortably within my conscience. And I’m a better person for it.

On New Year’s Day, Hubby and I completed 2 decades of marriage! Yup…we’re that ancient Dinosaurs practically And yet, when I look back, I can’t imagine it’s been that long! I realized that I’ve known him for 23 years, the same amount of time I knew my parents for before we got hitched! It just seems incredible, wonderful and weird all at once, if you get my meaning! My single days are so far behind me, they seem like a mirage…and now with Ishaan in the mix, they might almost be a distant dream A pleasant dream, but distant nonetheless

It’s been one hell of a ride! We met in Medical School and courted for three years before we married. We had, or rather I had a 4-day long, Big Fat Indian Wedding Even if I do say so myself, it was quite an event in those days One of the first Goan weddings that lasted for more than a few hours on a hot, stuffy afternoon A lot of people have since come up to me and my parents and shared how much they enjoyed it and remember the food and festivities to this day! It was a chaotic happy time, with the house overflowing with family and friends. A time of eating, drinking, songs and parties It was a double celebration since my parents completed 25 years that same year, a couple of days after the wedding! I had ‘henna’ on my hands for the first time in my life and actually suffered a reaction to its fragrance! Or maybe it was just nerves Go figure I remember spending the night before the wedding curled up next to my brother (he was 12), and other girlfriends, and him whispering in my ear, suddenly sober, “This is the last night you’re going to be sleeping at home.” And me staring into the dark, tightening my arms around him, not knowing what to say as the reality of separation began to sink in. It wasn’t like we were going to leave Goa. We would be just a 15-minute drive away, but in so many ways…worlds apart.

The first few years were ‘turbulent’ at best and that’s all I’m going to say about that We both had a lot of learning to do. Stuff you don’t get to know unless you live with each other and sometimes not even then. We were both young, temperamental and stubborn and neither of us would shy away from a good old-fashioned fight! We had points to prove and no-one was going to stop us! Over the years, we completed our doctoral studies and eventually moved to Bombay when Hubby took a job with P & G. It was the beginning of a new chapter. We had more money now (gone were those penny-pinching student days ), and nicer houses to live in and for the first time in our lives we were able to indulge our shared passion of traveling! This was crucial to the ‘health of our marriage’, coz it is one of our very very few shared passions I wonder sometimes that we were attracted to each other at all…we have practically NOTHING in common! Ask Hubby if you don’t believe me, he’ll be the first one to agree

I like to think we’ve mellowed over the years Well certainly some days more than others We still fight (I see nothing wrong with the occasional good old-fashioned clearing of air & minds!), but they’re nothing as serious as they used to once be and less than half as hurtful. We agree on many more things now and have grown closer through major life experiences, like every other marriage. Moving houses, deaths of people we’ve loved, changing jobs, Ishaan and becoming parents…we’ve been through it all and together we’ve survived. I don’t say this very often and hardly ever in public (it’s just not who I am), but Hubby is the Rock that my Life is built on. Oh I know, we shouldn’t be dependent on another person for our happiness and I’m not the sentimental sort…but hey, if the cap fits! That’s not to say that I’ve ceased to be an independent, intelligent woman, entirely capable of taking care of myself, rather that I enjoy being taken care of by the Man I love and who loves me more, especially on those days that I find it hard to love myself

I’ve been supremely lucky! (I have a way of being. Trust me, it’s a Saggitarian thing ) I found the Man I love twenty years ago, and he loved me back! And twenty years of Life later, we still feel the same way It’s taken blood and sweat and tears but it’s been worth it. I look back and wonder what I would change and honestly…I can’t say that I would change much at all, coz we wouldn’t be who we are today without having been through what we did. And I like who we are today Very much

As I look ahead, I wonder what the next decades will bring. More challenges I have no doubt, some pain (unavoidable) and much happiness (hopefully). Bring it On I say! Together, We’ll Find our Way

Here’s our song Way back from when we could still have rambling, relaxed telephone conversations about…you guessed it…Nothing!! Hubby’s favorite

Boy! That takes me back! Onwards to 25!!

If I had to summarize in a nutshell, here goes…Dad was transformed from an independent, intelligent (if crabby!) person, into a Shadow…a Man in retreat. All that remains now is a shell of his former self and all we can do now is wait and watch. Ironically as Dad retreats, his grandson blossoms in leaps and bounds. Everyday brings new words, new thoughts, new actions, and more mischief! He’s grown into a little man now! A mischievous man, an utterly exasperating man, a man with an inexhaustible penchant & talent for trouble In short, a man after my own heart I watch them both and observe how Nature can be at once so brutal and magical. This has been the hardest part of 2011, watching helplessly while my Dad fades away. And yet in a true testament to the resilience of the human spirit, I’ve managed to find Happiness amidst the chaos. I’ve progressed from denial to acceptance and learnt that no matter how troubling the times, it isn’t in my nature to stay constantly unhappy. It’s too exhausting and not at all worth the effort unhappiness seems to demand. So instead, I’ve looked for and found Happiness in the little things and more often than not have been rewarded beyond belief Ishaan helps…as always

I’ve surprised myself by making friends Yes you read right…Friends as in plural not ‘A Friend’ Given that I had given up on ever making new friends here in Goa, I was over the moon to finally find a group of like-minded women who wanted what I wanted…that’s to say…wanted to have fun, plain & simple! A group of us Moms from Ishaan’s class at school got together and decided to make ‘Enjoyment of Life’ our one-point agenda And boy are we good at it Parties, trips, coffee mornings…we’ve been on a roll So of course, Hubby had to go and take an assignment in Bombay, just as I was getting the hang of Goa! How typically Male of him And so here I am at the beginning of 2012, preparing for yet another move in a space of two years…this time with a 3-yr-old in tow!! I need your prayers people! Well, at least he’s got into a school in Bombay…a miracle of sorts

Oh well…c’est la vie In October, we finally made the trip to Singapore with Ishaan!! He got to meet my girlfriends, the women who were with me, when we started the adoption process. The women who held my hands through all the waiting. He’s a great traveler!! Slept on both flights coming in and out of Singapore We had a wonderful time at the Zoo and the Bird Park and just being together as a family,  just the three of us, in a long time I can’t wait for our next vacation together December was fun too:) Made our annual trip to Mahabaleshwar with family and had a blast!! Learnt that Ishaan away from home is a different story! A much improved story if I must be honest! He’s naughty but controllable and plays the part of  ’Mama’s little helper’ to perfection Spent a week in Bombay, settling Hubby in the rented 2-BHK we will call home come April. It’s going to be an enormous transition from my parents sprawling bungalow to the tiny 5th-floor apartment, but at least the neighborhood is quiet and the view from the windows is the green of coconut palms I think we’re going to be alright, and it’s most likely going to be only for a couple of years until we move again

I don’t believe in resolutions, probably coz I’ve broken every one I’ve ever made I do hope that my return to writing will be more permanent than temporary, seeing as it always brings me joy and fulfillment So far 2012 has been promising I’ve seen Sherlock Holmes (although technically it belongs in 2011 coz I saw it on New Year’s Eve, but Hey! Who cares!)… and fallen in love all over again with the extremely talented and quirky Robert Downey Jr He’s always been a favorite of mine and he’s absolutely smashing in this second movie I hope there are many more movies planned for the future. Take a bow – Guy Ritchie

I’ve been meaning to read Stieg Larsson‘s Millenium series for a while now, but was always put off by reports of it’s explicit graphic sexual and violence content. Didn’t have the stomach for it last year, but did finally buy the whole series on sale Have just finished Reading Book 1 of the Trilogy, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and am glad I finally decided to read it. A well-crafted thriller with interesting characters. Am on Book 2 now. Learnt that the author passed away after submitting all the three manuscripts and so never learned of their phenomenal success. Life is full of ironies.

A little something to ward of that 'Evil Eye' in 2012

And so here we are again…at an end and a beginning I rather enjoyed the end and I’m looking forward to new beginnings I wish the same for you

Here’s to a good year People!!

You’re a year older and I suppose wiser (at least that’s what us mortals reckon ), although when you’ve been around since the very beginning (whatever or whenever that was!), a year is probably like the proverbial drop in the universal ocean huh?! 

Happy Birthday Mr. G!

Still, a Birthday’s a Birthday and yours just gets us all in a tizzy! We scamper around trying to get everything we need to welcome you into our homes in just the ‘right’ way; ordering sweets (cakes (if any) are strictly egg less I assure you ), buying fireworks (what’s a little pollution in honor of a God?!), and veggies that most Goans will eat reluctantly for as long as you stay! I know of quite a few that are thankful you’re only here for a short visit I’ve always meant to ask you…would you like to try fish some day? I mean, it seems entirely unfair to keep the one thing we love above all else from you And I know that you love your chicken in Bali I’ve always wondered about the fuss surrounding your arrival. I mean, you may be coming into our homes once a year but aren’t you always resident in our hearts? Wouldn’t we better off making ourselves worthier of your presence in our lives rather than our houses? But then what do I know? I’m a rebel of sorts, with my radical ideas and crazy notions Mom certainly thinks so!

Moving on (I’m already on the verge of being excommunicated coz of my perceived irreverence )…there is the question of the gift. I guess most of us trust that your favorite sweet the ‘modak’, which we offer you this day will be enough. Coz seriously, what do you give the One that has everything? Although I wonder about that. I mean look at your kids!! You’ve got some serious heartache there! Me, I offer you a renewal of my faith and devotion, both given in a very private, discreet way, which is how I would like to keep it A lot of people do love to deck you up in jewels and things these days though…it’s become quite the fashion. You do look rather stunning in all your finery I must admit So that’s the gifts done and there’s not much else to it is there?

Just a few things I’ve always wanted to ask you, and some that I just wanted to get off my chest…you don’t mind do you? Nah!! Didn’t think you would

Does your mouse get the day off today? You know, it being your Birthday and all? I certainly hope so By the way, we found one today, a mouse in the house I mean, and we let him go, coz we didn’t want to hurt him on your Birthday, but we did shoo him away. I’m afraid I cannot be tolerant of mice even for you!

Do you ever look at us mortals and wonder, ‘What on Earth was I thinking???!!’

Do you enjoy all the noise and smoke from the fireworks or would you prefer a quieter celebration? Be honest now!

Would you truly throw a fit if we offered you the good old ‘fish curry-rice’ combo? Everyone seems to think so, but I’ve always wondered

Would you ever consider giving our self-appointed, know-it-all, middle-men, a whack on the head? Especially when they go into a ritualistic-frenzy that would be the envy of any self-respecting coven?! If I said ‘Pretty Please’ perhaps?

But my main purpose in writing you this letter, was just to let you know, you’re my favorite God! Always have been, ever since I can remember. You’re just so cute and charismatic! Also, you’re smart! That helps And my brother was named for you and he was pretty special! Another point in your favor!

And so here’s my Birthday wish for you. I wish you the very same thing I wish my loved ones…Happiness and Love always Oh and when you see B, tell him I miss him and I love him…now more than ever. Oh and while I have your attention, would you please just make it so I can find the time and the inclination to get back to writing? Please! Pretty Please!!!

Have a Good one Mr. G  

Until next year!

Love, H ❤

As I mentioned in my previous post, I’ve been watching Midsomer Murders quite obsessively these past few weeks. When I say obsessive, what I mean is, I’ve watched all the little extras they include…cast biographies, ‘The Making Of…’ documentaries, cast interviews, even maps of the fictional County, several times over! You know – all the stuff that you wouldn’t watch unless you were a die-hard fan or just plain loony Me, I’m both

That’s how I stumbled upon the Theremin, an amazing musical instrument that one plays without ever touching it with your hands! To a musical novice like me (I don’t play any instrument, unless vocal chords are counted ;-)) that just seemed…fascinating! I had to know more! I love the title music of the Series and have always wondered how that eerily haunting tune was made. I always assumed it was a human voice, some opera singer perhaps? Now, thanks to Wikipedia and Youtube, I know otherwise!

The Theremin! I for one would never have thought it was a musical box

The Theremin is named after its Russian inventor, Professor Léon Theremin, who patented the device in 1928, the year my Grandma was born! Wonder if that has anything to do with the pitch of her voice The player moves his hands in front of two metal antennas (the main part of the instrument), that sense their position. The instrument produces a single note whose pitch is controlled by the player’s right hand & volume with the left. The electric signals from the Theremin are amplified and sent to a loudspeaker. I’m still not sure how all this works, except I gather there’s physics involved, which I confess was never a favorite subject of mine! All I know is what I see, a musician making music by waving their hands in the air…Magical

I know now it’s been used in movie soundtracks, by Rock bands (Zeppelin, Rolling Stones), and in concert music over the years. This is the title track from Midsomer Murders that I love so well, played by Celia Sheen. So here’s to this weirdly wonderful musical instrument! Do let me know what you think!

I’ve been very irregular with the blogging over the past couple of months and I don’t see that changing in the near future. That’s not to say I haven’t written stuff…I have, some, just nothing I would care to share with anyone and nothing that seems to resonate with my blog title at this time. And so I’ve hidden myself away from from the Blogosphere and buried myself in books (The Armand Gamache series by Louise Penny which has grown on me), and Midsomer Murders DVDs (an old favorite & highly recommended for fans of Brit Whodunits ). But here I am and what’s the first thing I see when I open my Dashboard – No Spam! You know something’s terribly wrong when even the Spammers leave! So consider this a desperate post from a stricken blogger, a frantic plea to all the spammers out there…do not abandon ship! Not yet! Never

I’ve always tried to be optimistic and look at the bright side and I think I do a fairly decent job of it for the most part. Lately that’s just become not so much more difficult as exhausting. That’s what I feel most of the time now…exhausted. Exhausted from the constant bickering at home over trivial issues, from watching the people I love fade away and worse become unrecognizable when all I can do is watch, from the incessant rains that hide the Sun for days on end (how I yearn for a glimpse of sunshine!). You guessed it…just a general atmosphere of doom & gloom that I can’t quite seem to shirk. What’s worse is, it isn’t a good time for Photography (not in this light or lack thereof!), and that’s really pissing me off! Not the best time for Happy thoughts eh? I enjoy my time alone with the camera…it’s become rather an obsession akin to meditation actually. Early mornings, sitting on the porch, lens in hand…Me and the birds. That’s Bliss You know how it is when you don’t start the day well don’t you? Everything sucks!  The only thought that keeps me going is that this is a phase (a familiar one too!), and that the only way left is up! There…managed to squeeze out the one Happy thought. Perhaps the tide is turning?

Yesterday, after a long time, a poem came to me. A Happy poem I mean. One that didn’t make me want to dismiss the words, into the dark corners of my brain and hope they’d forever vanish into that particular abyss! Like most Happy things these days it’s courtesy Ishaan , who always manages to be exasperating, annoying and uplifting, all at the same time! Although I don’t see why I should be surprised…he has an excellent teacher

So, this is me, trying once again to write myself into Happiness and what do you know…once again, seems to have worked For now. It seemed appropriate to call this one ‘Happiness’, but suggestions are welcome

Happiness

Head bowed and eyes shut,

Deeply I inhale the familiar fragrance.

Part honeysuckle, part coffee,

A little drool, part toffee!

It envelops and lingers,

Around the curves of my face.

Clings to the hollow in my throat,

A halo around my head,

And delves into the depths of my heart,

Settling there, its rightful home.

Warm, welcoming and human,

Made from dewy eyelashes and tousled hair,

From pixie ears and salty tears.

It is the scent of my flesh and of the earth,

Everlasting, ethereal, bewitching.

It is mine. My own scent of Happiness.

Head bowed and eyes shut,

Deeply I inhale the familiar fragrance!

So here’s some of what I’ve pondered, learnt and wondered about the World and myself during the time I’ve been away…But let me warn you first, the trusty Brain is all ‘Fluey’ right now so NONE of this may make any sense. Yes I know, not much of anything makes sense these days anyway…well not to me it doesn’t, or maybe that’s just the depression talking! See I told you…’FLUEY’! Just think of these as the ramblings of ole Mr. Fluey! He’s beginning to grow on me, the sneak

It’s that time of year again. The Monsoon is firmly entrenched in Goa, clothing her in resplendent green. Unfortunately so are the mosquitoes. And the flies. There is NO escape. This is also the time for the annual Flu marathon. You would be hard-pressed to find a household that does not participate! You know the drill…the vague malaise, a hint of itch in the throat, the heavy head that signals its arrival; followed by the incessant sneezing, the running nose, that makes you wonder where that waterfall in your head otherwise lives, and the cough – hacking, phlegmy and lingering. Oh how the blessed thing lingers & lingers and lingers! And to add to all the physical discomfort, how about a little low-grade depression thrown in to spice things up?! I mean what’s a marathon if not a grueling test of endurance? And more obstacles only demand and prove endurance right? In case you were wondering…just being rhetorical here. It’s a favorite past-time of Mr. Fluey’s!

But what’s a marathon with a lone participant eh? The more the merrier – in Health and apparently in Disease! So we have everyone in the family affected, together or serially making for a wonderful month-long tournament of illness. There, so now you know what I’ve doing while I’ve been away for the most part. I think I’m just about to cross the finish line, although who’s to say? The Flu is nothing if not treacherous! But it can be illuminating too…occasionally. Because you have all the time in the world to think. Provided of course you choose to think about the ‘real’ stuff, you know, not the frivolous stuff that I so often let Mr. Fluey ponder upon Let me give you an example. Did you know that from a certain angle, the curve of a dog’s tail is easily and very convincingly mistaken for a black swan’s head? You didn’t know that? Just ask Mr. Fluey!

And here’s a few other things Mr. Fluey has been thinking these past few weeks.

When the inside of your car is comfortable, the outside really doesn’t matter

Never stop the cold fluids during the Flu! Especially when that fluid is a chilled Thums Up!

You’re never too sick to Dream

Enjoy the depression while it lasts. Reality is worse.

Thoughts are nothing without action and language means little without speech.

Frivolity is a fun nay essential requisite for Happiness

Most parents equate respect with obedience. I respectfully disagree.

When you have to cough…don’t bother to fight it.

The sneeze is a mighty weapon! Use it well

Watching a bird build its nest is miraculously uplifting and humbling

Photography is eminently therapeutic but supremely addictive. Beware!

Music has its moments but sometimes only Silence will do.

Prayers come at the strangest hours, uncalled for and not always spiritual, but calming even when unanswered.

Love conquers much but you have to let it.

Snoring is just another form of breathing. Get used to it.

Rage is not always a bad thing.

Terror and terrorists will sadly outlive you and me

Good movies are essential for sanity!

There’s always someone feeling worse than you are! Usually your spouse

When all else fails…trust the BOOZE!!

A body deprived of sleep is like a soul deprived of salvation. Did I really type that? Jeepers…Mr. Fluey is getting away from me…must be the sleep-deprivation…

Mr. Fluey says Good Night…

Just to take the edge off all the tripe above…here’s something to make you feel good…No Words

If you’ve lived long enough (and Lord knows I have), Death becomes as commonplace as, well just about everything else. I never thought about it until my aunt said something to the effect on Sunday, when we both lost a Man we loved dearly We were on the phone and I was mouthing the usual empty platitudes one does at such times, when she said in a voice shaky with tears, “Don’t worry Darling. I’m alright. Really. It’s a shock of course and so terribly sad but it’s become kind of a habit now.” That just knocked my socks off. We’ve lost most of our older generation in the last decade and so just like she said…we’ve become habituated. We have learned to grieve and carry on. Perhaps it has helped to know that they led long and fulfilled lives, for the most part. Sometimes, like in Anna’s case, it helps to know that he didn’t suffer when the end came. Either way, what it amounts to is ‘No more tears’. I’m all cried out and for now I choose to remember the good times and celebrate the happy memories.

‘Anna’ (meaning Big Brother), is what I used to call him. He was my Grand-uncle. Isn’t it strange how in the space of a second, everything is in ‘past tense’? Well…c’est la vie. Anna was the youngest of five siblings, my Mom’s youngest paternal uncle. He was adored as a child and if sources are to be believed, quite the ‘Brat’ He was intelligent, charming, a music-lover, a dog-lover, generous to a fault, stubborn, a chain smoker, an eccentric, a confirmed bachelor, part curmudgeon part wise-old-man, devoted family man, a chemist par excellence, temperamental, honest, funny, in-your face…the list is endless. Because he was so smart, he was sent to the US where he completed his Doctorate in Chemistry from Berkeley, much to the pride and delight of the entire clan No mean feat that! His Mom had had to pawn her gold to raise the money to make it happen! He never forgot the sacrifices his family had made to give him a great education and perhaps that’s why he didn’t bat an eyelid, when he left a promising career behind in the US to come and set-up a highly successful chemical manufacturing business with his brother, one that they ran with passion and integrity for several decades. Because of their example, I still believe that it is possible to be successful in business in India, without resorting to corruption, despite all the evidence to the contrary these days!

I knew him all my life. He and Aboda (his older brother), were my childhood Santa Clauses They spoilt me with love & gifts! Boxes of fireworks for Diwali, sweets, books, music, movies, joy-rides in the stately Ambassador (remember those!), anything I wanted I got! And later when we moved to Goa, cartons of foodstuff – tins of condensed milk, bags of Cadbury éclairs, packets of Jello and other goodies! The walkie-talkie doll he brought me back from the US still stands in her wooden case in my aunt’s house to this day! As I write, I realize how difficult it is for me to separate the two even in my memories! It’s always been that way. Aboda & Anna. Anna & Aboda. They were inseparable. I must say though that as a child there were times when Anna got on my juvenile nerves! He would buy mangoes or some other delicacy and then insist I sit down in front of him and eat one right there and then! There was no refusing him when he got into one of his stubborn fits! I didn’t always want to and it bugged me no end. I remember Mom saying how it was such a little thing that brought him so much happiness, ‘Surely you won’t deny him that darling? He loves you so much!’ I didn’t always understand then, but I do now. Of course he did. I did too, just my youth acting up!

When I joined Medicine, I remember how proud he was He presented me with my first ever copy of ‘Goodman & Gilman’, that humungous treatise on Pharmacology, his biggest love after family! He adored both the subject and that book and for me any tribute to him would be incomplete without mention of it! He read that book from cover to cover, every new edition, until the end of his days, and relished the long discussions that followed with me. I can’t honestly say I enjoyed them quite as much For one, he always knew more than I did and for another I never quite convinced him that real life rarely follows textbooks! No illness in the family was spared and we are not a family stingy with our ill health Diabetes, Hypertension, Parkinson’s, Muscular Dystrophy, and now Dementia…we’ve given him enough reading to last him his lifetime! We had endless discussions on new drugs, side effects, doses and much else…I’m afraid I didn’t realize quite how much I’m going to miss them, now he’s gone.

For the last two years of his life, after his sister-in-law passed away, he led a very solitary existence. We were all of us caught up with our lives and I know I for one didn’t call him as often as I should have. The times I did, I found he didn’t have much to say anymore, his life being restricted by arthritis. He still read Goodman & Gilman though, watched a bit of TV and still worried about all of us, like the Anna of old. Some things never change When we heard he had had a fall, we spoke on the telephone. I am so very grateful for that phone call now – it was the last time I heard his voice. He was fine he said, and not to worry! The doctor had been informed and my aunt was with him for the day. So the next morning when we received the call, we couldn’t wrap our heads around it at first. How could he be gone? We just spoke yesterday! You know, the usual shocked disbelief. It’s been four days now and I’ve had time to cogitate. I’m grateful now for the fact that he didn’t suffer at the end. No lingering on some unfriendly hospital bed, no losing his mind, no pain…just a quick release from what must have been a lonely existence. When you’ve lived long enough and seen what I’ve seen, believe you me, a quick release is something to be thankful for!

The last time I saw him was in 2009, when we visited with Ishaan He was so thrilled to meet yet another generation of the family! I remember him telling Mom later how the pitter-patter of a child’s feet can fill even the emptiest soul with music I wish Ishaan had had a chance to get to know him. I wish…oh so many things! My enduring memory will always be one of him sitting in his favorite armchair in the living room of the house he lived in all my life, with his spectacle case on the table next to him, reading G & G.

I miss him. Always will. That’s a given. Sometimes I wonder whether my heart doesn’t resemble a very holey piece of cheese…I’ve lost so many people I’ve loved and admired. They’ve left spaces that can never be entirely filled again. And yet here I am people. A survivor. And that’s what Anna was. That’s his legacy to me. And I mean to honor it and him for what time I have left, here on Earth.

No. More. Tears.

Love you Anna.

Peace & Happiness wherever you are

I didn’t realize yesterday was Father’s Day until Facebook let me know! Honestly, what did we do before Facebook? Not that it made much of a difference once I did know. Have never been one for celebrating ‘Days’. For one it can get expensive Before you label me an ingrate however, let me assure you that I love my Dad dearly, probably more so now than ever, as the time we have together becomes more finite.

I’ve always been Daddy’s girl Mom tells stories of how he doted on me as a child, doing everything he could, even carrying me long distances even when I was 5!! That fact assumes true significance when you know that I was always a ‘healthy’ child My favorite story is the one in which I’m hurt by broken milk bottles and Dad is telling everyone off Hearing Mom & Grandma describe it, I imagine the blood gushing from my hands (although the exact details are hazy!), and a river of red all over the kitchen floor where it happened; Mom & Gran having hysterics; and Dad gathering me up in his arms, yelling at them while trying to comfort me and run downstairs to the doctor all at the same time. I like to imagine myself as cool as a cucumber amidst all this chaos! Yeah, yeah…I like to feel important now and again folks, even if it was more than…well, however many decades ago

But I have memories of my own too I remember very clearly running up the stairs just after I had got my 10^th Grade results. Here in India, 10^th Grade is a big deal. It’s the last year of school, after which there’s a public examination (in every State), and one enters college. I had done really well and was among the top 50 students in Goa! I remember feeling nervously proud running up those stairs…wanting desperately to make Dad proud and afraid that I might have still managed to fail him somehow. You know the feeling! I needn’t have worried, as I flung open the terrace door and blurted out my news, the look on his face was everything I’d dreamt of and more I remember him hugging me (probably coz we’re not at all a touchy, feely family!) and saying “Well Done!” or ‘Congratulations” or some such. It’s not important what he said. Sometimes I think it’s not even important how he felt. I think the most important feeling that day was how making him proud made me feel! Validated, worthy, proud and loved It’s a feeling I’ll cherish forever, one that warms my heart to this day

Needless to say, I don’t remember Dad ever ticking me off or denying me anything I wanted throughout my childhood within reason. It’s a wonder I didn’t grow up thinking I was the center of the universe coz I certainly was the center of his! Or did I You guys can be the judges of that! There was one occasion though that I remember as clearly as if it were yesterday, when I threw a tantrum (I was very big on tantrums! They may be best described as flamboyant if you get my meaning! Much to my Mom’s satisfaction, Ishaan is now paying me back with my own coin so to speak ), and stamped on his newly polished leather shoes! I got a well-deserved whack for my troubles! Dad was very particular about his appearance. He had a large wardrobe of suits and was always spiffily attired! Debonair is the word that comes to mind

Dad & I...I was 6.

Over the years I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that no matter what I grew up thinking, my Dad is not God. He has his faults and like in all of us, age does nothing to temper them. I’ve also had to come to terms with how much I am like him! It makes me at once very proud and very scared. I’ve inherited his looks, his love for beautiful things; his interest in photography; his generous spirit of giving; his keen intellect and curious nature; his laughter and love of a good joke; his stubbornness; his ego; his love for debate; his mercurial temper and his love for a good drink and junk food He’s given me all this and so much more, it’s hard to know where he ends and I begin. And now, when he’s old and tired and spent, I find the roles reversed. I find myself parenting the man who taught me everything I know. I lend him my hands and shoulders for support. I help him find words, find meaning and often himself. I watched like an anxious parent when he took his first unaided steps after the surgery and I still watch him to this day, ready to catch him if he should fall. I buy him the junk food that he once bought me and smooth his brow when he’s worried and confused, willing away his troubles, wanting to bear his burdens as he once bore mine. How did it come to this? Perhaps this is the circle of Life…parents’ father children and eventually children father parents.

So on this Father’s Day, I want to say THANK YOU & I LOVE YOU to the BEST Dad I could have had and I know that if I can be even a fraction of what he’s been and continues to be to me, we’re going to be Ok.

Love you Daddy! Always will