The Lost Pithori

I jokingly call it the Anti-India religious festival. Celebrated on the last day of Shravan, this puja is meant for the kids. Let there be many and let them live long – the prayer would be. This is perhaps the only religious festival celebrated in my family. The matriarch – my grandmother – used to perform this puja and all her kids and grandkids used to assemble together to seek the blessings! It was a very elaborate affair. A night, we kids were allowed to stay up late and in some cases even skip school the next day! It was a yearly gathering of all the cousins together and an evening spent having fun. The rains would have subsided by then and atmosphere would be very nice – lush green, pleasant and cold enough to not require a fan.

A hand drawn - piThori cha paT - figurines of 64 different goddesses were worshiped along with banyan tree leaves. Lots of flowers would decorate the puja.

The main attraction was food – puraN poLee, aLoochi wadi, walacha birda, bhendichee bhaji, paDavaLaachee bhaji, karlyachee bhaji, bhajaNeecha waDaa and tandaLachee kheer! All these things would be laid out in a plate and at the end of the puja my aji would raise the plate on her head and ask – yaa waNaa laa athit kaoN? Who seeks the blessings today? As the youngest of her grandchildren, I was allowed to be the guest…until the next generation arrived! I had to speak out the names of everyone – all her children and grandchildren – Jayant, Shaku, Sindhu, Narendra, Raju, Dipoo, Pradnya, Pravin, Kanchan, Bhushan, Nutan, Rani, Abhi, Netra, Kaustubh, Harshada, Mayura, Kalpak, Akshata, Abha aNi Anuj – the list would go…and names added as new generations were added to the family. Neighbors would be invited – aaj amachya kaDe tirtha prasadalaa yaa – please come over for blessings – and a sweet peDha distributed.

Following dinners were an elaborate affair too. We would buy lot of plantain leaves and dinner would be served on it – easier to clean. The puraN poLee, the aLoochi wadi would be home made and my mother, aji and kakee (paternal aunt) would work over time to get everything ready in time.

And since the holy month of Shravan would be over, the next day, everyone celebrated by eating non-vegetarian food. Bombay duck curry, rice and ninava – sweets made of chick-pea flour and coconut would be the menu!

Eventually, people started finding it difficult to be there – festivals related to lunar calendar can be uncompromisingly on a working day! And it also became difficult for my aji to coordinate it. Many of her grandkids would be away – some for jobs, some because of exams, some stuck in a wrong country! The puraN poLyaa were no more home made, they were made to order by someone who could never replicate the authentic taste of a tel-poLee. Eventually after aji moved away (yes, there are project closures in real life too), one generation was automatically knocked off from the blessings and the list shortened. My kakee inherited the puja, but along with the old matriarch, luster was gone too.

I have been guilty of absence too. After a long time, I was present for the puja this year. What a depressing affair. It was just the six of us – kaka, kakee, my parents, Abha and me. I was more worried about the pains it would take to prepare all the food. poLyaa order kara aNi bakee kaahi karoo naka (Order the puraN poLee and that should be it). But my mother did not accept the idea. She went to the market to buy the vegetables. My kakee made the aLoochi waDee and the puraN poLee was made to order as I suggested. I was there to answer the question – yaa waNaa laa athit koaN? – with a much shorter list.

Where is your resignation, Madam Mayor?

The mayor of Pune had threatened to resign if the road conditions are not corrected satisfactorily. She even stopped using the car provided by the government and has started using it again because the roads are good now. It appears, when a spineless Mayor – who does not have many constitutional rights anyway – threatens something, it is taken very seriously. The commissioner then went into top gear to make roads better.

This project was destined to be doomed from the start. Everyone knows that the condition is beyond repair. What could not be done from October 2005 to May 2006 cannot be achieved in the short span of four days. And wherever the roads have been worked upon, the condition is okay only till the next shower. Come next rainy season, we will have to go through the same despair. But Madam Mayor, you have been a part of the government for a long time now. You know the road conditions and you also know what will happen next rainy season. What steps are you taking towards correcting this problem? Or are you going to threaten again the next year? Or was this just a farce? Did you even mean it?

My cousin – Kisha mama

(If you have not seen the Marathi movie “kaaydyacha bola” and intend to, read no further – this post will steal the thunder for you. Well, actually, if we can read between lines, the title already has.)

Kaahi picture-bicture baghitala kaa? – N asked casually. (Seen any movies lately?) I nodded no. It appears having a multiplex close to my house makes it imperative that I watch movies regularly. He went back to the time when he watched kaaydyacha bola and how he couldn’t stop laughing.

Before I knew what was happening, my father made the plan, bought the tickets and I was in sipping on an over-priced, supposedly authentic American black coffee watching kaaydyacha bola.

The title of the movie is a pun – you can either interpret it as “talk about the law” or interpret it as “talk about the bribe” – and that is where the hilarity starts. Two college students are on their way to Mumbai to have some fun instead of helping out families with chores. They refill the car tank and move on when they are promptly arrested on the charges of murder of the gas station attendant. A lawyer– uncle to one of the friends – is sent to defend the boys. A rustic Makrand Anaspure plays Advocate Keshav Kunthalgirikar a.k.a. Kisha mama and the first scene of altercation between the judge and the lawyer about inappropriate attire hits you on the forehead – this is a remake of My Cousin Vinny! Sharvari Jamenis plays the bimbo girlfriend and the movie makes bit more fun of Pushkar Shrotri – the stuttering lawyer. The movie has been modified for Indian context – a little bit of melodrama, betting scandal, and scathing criticism of socio-political caste system, of the police and of a justice system still mired in the colonial era expectations. Thankfully, there is no song-and-dance sequence between Sharvari and Makrand who are hopelessly in love and waiting for the lawyer to win his first case before getting married.

Kisha mama proves to be very adept in cross questioning and showing follies in the arguments and Sharvari’s Anglo-Marathi usage of wrong words adds to the fun. Just like the original movie, the bimbo helps in solving the crime – apparently, we left-handed people could only have struck the victim and none of the defendants was south paws. All in all, good movie – oops good remake. Even if this post has stolen the thunder of watching Marathi My Cousin Vinny, it is worth spending 2 hours having fun.

Scripps National Spelling Bee and Persons of Indian Origin

If you ask me which sport is most exciting, Spelling Bee is the one I will choose. And the fact that ESPN (originally from ABC, but nevertheless) broadcasts it DOES make it a sport!

To say many of the words they use in Spelling Bee are unknown is a humble acceptance of my meager knowledge about English words. What good does it do? I don’t know. May be the guys who do well in Spelling Bee get good marks in GRE – assuming many of them feel the need of appearing for GRE.

Of late, one of the distinct features of Spelling Bee though is the large number of Persons (Children) of Indian Origin that participate in it. Last year, out of the last 10, four were of Indian origin. Out of the last five; three were of Indian origin and out of the last two; two were of Indian origin! This time as well, there were three participants of Indian origin in the last 10. However, the final slot was dominated by three girls – one Canadian and two Americans.

Last year, Samir Patel and Rajiv Tarigopula did well. This year also they did well. But Samir met his nemesis in “eremacausis” in Round 7 and Rajiv in “heiligenschien” in Round 11. Kavya Shivashankar was eliminated in Round 8 by “gematrial”. None of these words is recognized by MS-Word! And neither of the words is available on the free online edition of m-w.com…

Katharine Close a 13 year old from New Jersey won by spelling “ursprache” correctly!

Travelogue Ends – The Flying Dutch Trainee

Upon asking and this time insisting on an aisle seat, I was given one – but in emergency exit row. Little more leg room – I looked at the positive side and made myself comfortable. I was soon joined by a very enthusiastic Dutch man who was going to India. Vacation? No, home. You? For training. Er, what? Training. What kind of training? Computer training. Really, that’s interesting.

He was a software professional and was interested in learning something which would further his position in his current company. The course in the US was cancelled and he was asked if he would be interested in a course conducted in Mumbai…. Good Hotel with breakfast and dinner included, personal attention and coaching – what more could he have asked for – said he. We then talked about schooling in Holland, his English proficiency, my English proficiency, schooling in India, IT industry and such. He was surprised, I had to fill in an immigration form – when I go back to Holland, I will not have to fill anything – he asserted Tavleen Singh style. I shrugged. Like a good host, I explained him what happens once we get off the plane and he shared some of his Dutch crossword books and mints with me. I hope he found the training useful.

Travelogue 10 – Scared in London

An hour and a quarter train ride later I saw the smiling face of V welcoming me. The conversation drifted on many topics and we caught up as much as we could in a short span of three hours. The conversation topic was mainly comparison of the lifestyles on two opposite coasts of Atlantic. V and P did not like many things in this new country! And I could imagine why. The houses are small, getting into leases and maintenance thereafter is complicated and overall lifestyle is expensive. I was told some amazing things – the quality of television programs (that horrible channel called Star News included – I couldn’t agree more), fish being expensive despite of so much of sea around, ease of getting around for P because of buses and trains and such. What came later did not have me prepared. It appears the biggest hobby of many Britons is to get drunk on weekends. They drink copious amounts of beer and get rowdy on the streets. When they are not drunk, they smoke and the wait at the bus stop is like smoking many cigarettes yourself – P told me. On the weekends, brawls and fights on the city roads are not uncommon. Though gun control is strict, happy slapping and stabbing are common. It all depends on the community you live in of course. So, nice houses with less rent are not very exciting because they are usually in a neighborhood that would make you think twice before setting foot out after sunset.

I was shown the spot where a few people have been stabbed since V and P moved in (they do not live close to the spot it just happened to be on the way). But nothing to be scared about – we are not even going in the area! Well, but you guys are scaring me. I have a walk of 20 minutes after I get out of the tube. Ah yes, be careful. You know, take the usual precaution – walk fast, do not make eye contact. Yeah, that was very reassuring.

I did not mind it until I realized something. I took the 2117 train from a station that V described as smaller than Matheran. And small it was. The train arrived on time and I believe I was the only person who got in the train. Afterwards I realized I was all alone in the compartment. Should I be worried? I mean if something happened…there was no one to tell the story! So I moved to another compartment, which was empty too! It was next to the first class compartment and the train attendant was in that area. At least there was other human being. I wasn’t sure if I should be scared that there was someone around or should be scared that there wasn’t anyone around. The twilight was fast fading away and the train kept making its usual stops at times noted in the timetable. I quickly charted my path. Get down at interchange for tube, take District line, and change to Piccadilly line and get down at the destination and walk really fast!

Eventually, I reached the station. A few people did get down and about 10-15 of us walked towards the “Way Out” sign and started walking out. Only three of us walked in the direction I wanted to go. One guy though turned left immediately and then there were two! I increased my pace but realized it was important to maintain a healthy distance between that person and me. But wait – he is turning! And he turned. Now, I was alone on the dual carriageway! No one in front of me as far as I could see. I looked over my shoulder and found someone walking behind me. All right, take a deep breath, walk fast and don’t be scared. The tales of stabbing and happy slapping were very fresh in my memory. I increased the pace of my walk…and did not slow down for a long time. My shins were hurting me and finally I decided to slow down. A man and a woman were seen approaching and I had all the evil sights playing in my mind. But nothing happened! They went their way without acknowledging my presence. Then another man and woman crossed the street over to my side. Well, should I be bothered? Aching shins be damned, I increased my pace again. The couple seemed to be following me – joking and laughing loudly. Okay, just walk fast and get over with this – I said to myself. By now, the lights of the hotel were in sight, but I kept my pace. At last, I reached the hotel – heart racing, shins and lower back aching and sweating profusely – I lingered around the hotel entrance a bit. That couple was still following me. I wiped the sweat off my brow and made as dignified entry in the hotel as possible. I stopped by the front desk to confirm my cab booking and wake up call. No sooner, I am done speaking with the concierge than this couple enters the hotel. Ah, so they were not following me, our destination was just the same! May be they realized why I walked fast, may be they didn’t. If they did, it at least gave them a story to tell their friends back home! From the accent, they seemed Americans. I made it a point to stop and say hi to them. At least, now my fears had no ground! My legs and lower back were still hurting, I needed a shower, but I had only three hours of sleep ahead of me and some packing to do…flight early morning tomorrow and I go home! I couldn’t wait to fall asleep.