Memoirs of a Lucknow boy

Fans of flipkart raise your hands. Isn’t it just wonderful? As they get more and more popular their services only seem to get better. Last week I ordered a book and it arrived the very next day. Wow, thought I.
Then this morning I ordered four books and one of them was delivered just now. How’s that for promptness? I love this concept of piecemeal delivery of the order. It’s like they’re saying, “You start reading this one.. we’ll get the others ASAP”. And the Cash on Delivery Option is a dream.
Apparently, so well have they been doing, that they’ve launched their own courier service.

The book that arrived last week turned out to be a wonderful read — ‘Lucknow Boy A Memoir’ by Vinod Mehta. I am not a great fan of biographies, auto or otherwise. I got a surfeit of them when in school and found a lot of them boring. Then a friend recommended Andre Agassi’s “Open” and I loved it. That was what made me look at ‘Lucknow Boy’. I have to confess though, the Lucknow connection was the clincher, rather than a love for Vinod Mehta’s writings. I’ve seen him a lot of him in various debates on various television channels and have loved him for his irreverence more than anything else. This will sound silly but the picture I have of him is sitting at one such panel flanked by some nattily dressed panel members while carelessly sporting a bright bright red shirt.

As anticipated I did enjoy the Lucknow bit. In fact the first part of the book makes it a must read for every Lucknowite. Somethings he says of Lucknow resonate strongly with me.. sample this..

“Lucknow bestowed on me one priceless gift. It taught me to look at the individual rather than his religion or caste or the tongue he spoke….” Later he adds.. “…for me Muslims meant korma, Christians meant cake and pastries, Sikhs meant hot halwa, Anglo-Indians meant mutton cutlets, Parsees meant dhansak. The solitary Jewish family in town did not come withon my grasp, so I aplogize for excluding them.”… That’s my kind of man, I thought.

Also..
“Some of my better-educated, more doctrinaire friends usually discuss secularism, composite culture and the syncretic tradition…I breathed the secularism they talk of, the composite culture flows in my veins, the syncretic tradition is something I observed daily as I rode my bicycle from Firangi Mahal to Sanyal Club. I didn’t pick up my secularism from books or at university or from protest demos. For me it was a lived reality.”

That’s not all. Armed with a third class BA degree from the Lucknow University he travels to Britain. That’s where he transforms himself from that small frog in the well to a well read, well informed individual. The rest of the book talks about his editorial journey, which is even more more interesting. Someone who starts his journalistic career as the editor of Debonair can’t really be boring. Other than that he launched three newspapers only to be sacked from each of them. I liked his sense of fairness of giving media space to points of view that may/may not coincide with his own. And I loved his candour..from admitting his temper tantrums (“I was under the misapprehension that all great editors had to be ‘difficult'”) to the gravest of errors to a child he abandoned.

Towards the end he gives some ‘Sweeper’s wisdom’ to aspiring journos. I also loved the section ‘Some people’ where he gives his impressions on people ranging from Shobha De to VS Naipaul and Rushdie. Quite enjoyable.
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‘Lucknow Boy’ put me on the path of some more books, which are the ones I ordered today. Mehta heavily recommends George Orwell’s writings. While I’ve read a lot about his books, specially Animal Farm and 1984, I never got down to reading them. Also, I thought it would be fun to read more of Lucknow’s history and so included a book on that too.

‘1984’ was delivered today and I’m looking forward to a quiet evening with the kids down for the day.

Happy New Year

First things first… a very very happy new year.

2012 kind of crept up on me while I was busy having a good time with the visiting in-laws and celebrating birthdays and anniversaries… we have a total of four in December, mine included. With Christmas plus the holidays … the month is a total riot.

Christmas Eve which began as a perfect day, ended at Chokhi Dhani. That’s highly highly recommended for kids and a warning for the adults – be careful with the food — it’s delicious but steeped in ghee/oil and had us all rushing around for digenes and enos. The kids were/are happy with Santa’s gifts, Hrit included, and for the moment the skateboard threat is off.

Santa Rangoli at Chokhi Dhani

And the crown Santa got. For some reason it has to be worn with a dupatta even if you’re in your nightie.

The in-laws left on the 30th after wrapping up the celebrations. Next morning we drove off to Panchagani. That’s becoming our regular year end destination. I rung in the new year sitting under clear open skies at a strawberry farm, a blazing bonfire, hot biryani, kids curled up fast asleep under thick blankets, friends around me and music from our cars parked by. The only catch.. I was nursing the worst cold of my life. Which meant a zillion sneezes, a red nose, hurting ears and throat, watering eyes and a trail of tissues wherever I went.

Pretty much like the year gone by — the good and the bad together in a bunch but the good far overshadowing the bad.

We did a quick detour to Mahabaleshwar next morning. Said our ‘hello’s’ to Mapro farms in our own special ways — the children by jumping for ages on the trampoline and the adults by tucking into bowls of fresh strawberrys and cream… completely forgetting the fact that some of them hadn’t met their weightloss targets for the year :-(.. but really, those berrys are worth it.

I had a great birthday even though I’m not really good at celebrating my own. Most birthdays I end up overworked and depressed… not so this time. The in-laws were there to cushion kidstress (that’s the stress that kids cause merely by being ‘kids’). And the icing on the cake.. I got some very thoughtful presents… my favourite – a new pair of sneakers from my SIL. My niece picked them so they had to be pink and white and I love them. The Husband, that great forgetter of birthdays, also remembered. (To be fair.. he forgot just once but I’m not about to let him forget that he did forget. Nor is the entire family .. everyone remembers to remind him each year).

School has reopened and I am revelling in the routine.. yes I do love the comfort of routine. Managed my morning walk after the kids left for school and then jazzed off to the gym singing ‘I am H.A.P.P.Y’.

Hope that’s how the New Year will be for all of us… H.A.P.P.Y.

A day before Christmas

Is it my birthday? I wondered as I got out of bed to find a steaming cup of tea sitting on the table. I was last out of bed today. The in-laws went over to the sis-in-law’s for the night and I pottered about on the comp till late. It being the first day of the holidays I decided to take it easy lazing in bed till well past 8. This tea-on-the-table thing took me by surprise. Wow. The Husband had done the honours.

Then I saw Hrit at the table drinking his milk.. I blinked and blinked again. Now who gave him milk? The Husband? As I was still trying to take it all in Naisha pranced out of her room, “Mama I’ve had my milk AND I’ve had my bath.” Wow wow wow. This surely is a first. Ever.

I looked The Husband. “What’s up?” I asked. He seemed pretty happy with himself and enjoying my surprise… but will he admit it? Nope. “It’s Naisha. It was her idea .. said she wanted to surprise you and so…,” he tailed off grinning.

In the kitchen.. the milk was boiled… this by The Husband who normally picks up the paper and leaves the milk bag hanging at the door.

I checked the calendar again. No it’s not my birthday. Must put it down to the Christmas spirit.

Santa’s been top of mind the whole of this last week.. obviously for the goodies he’s going to get. Hrit has been asking for a skateboard for ages. We were not sure he’s old enough to handle it and so got him a scooter instead. The Husband tried to tell him a skateboard’s too expensive to which Hrit replied, “Santa will get it, you don’t worry.” I’ve been trying to convince him a scooter is a better gift and I’m keeping my fingers crossed Santa is not blacklisted when the gifts are opened.

Naisha being Naisha thought and thought and thought. When I asked her what she’d asked Santa to get her, “It’s a secret. I’ll tell only Santa,” she announced, which had me in a tizzy. This Santa deception is getting tougher to keep up by the year. When she did finally tell, her choices were so bizarre they’d have had the real Santa running all over the North Pole looking for her stuff. Finally she settled for a crown.

Our good old Arocaria tree doubles as the Christmas tree each year.. it’s big and green and can hold lots of decorations. We had fun doing it up. Each evening they’ve been reminding Santa of their gifts, and, I might add, they’ve even been trying hard to be good. Today morning, to ensure correct delivery, the kids placed drawings of their anticipated gifts under the tree to make it easier for Santa to figure out what they want. Really, no chance of confusion here.

On the field and then onstage

It was Sports Day…
.. and N woke up bright and early all on her own at about 5.30. “I woke up because I have to get a medal today,” she announced. That scared me a bit but The Husband cheered her along. Sports is not really her thing. I remembered last year when she’d cried and cried because she couldn’t win a medal. We’d come home and made medals for the entire bunch of kids in the society. This time round I had prepared her a bit. “Run as fast as you can” I told her “and that will be good enough”.

She did run fast.. she reached the half way mark first where they had to wear caps. And there lay her undoing for she took ages trying to put it on perfectly and missed the medal by a whisker. To her credit she gave me the sweetest, bravest, fakest smile ever as she was being led away by her teacher but dissolved into tears when we went to pick her up.

The son is another story.. he strolled in among the last few stragglers, picking up a ‘turnip’ along the way, then walked away pretty nonchalantly least bothered about the outcome. That’s the twins for you.. never the same.

There’s H walking away hands behind his back

I just wish the sports day were more interesting… I mean how many similar races can one sit through considering most parents would be waiting for just one? A drill or a march past would be a good break or maybe the races could be spiced up a bit.

In school we had real fun ones like the kids walking in their father’s shoes, or dressing themselves up for school or planting a tree.. there’s surely more to racing than running, picking up stuff and running again. Of course that’s just a thought .. the kids are small and it’s tough to to get them to do anything, I know that only too well. Maybe my memories are of later years. Must ask papa and ma what it was like.

The kids had fun for sure. The parents, however, seemed to need a lesson or two in good behaviour. It was crazy how they crowded the tracks, waved and distracted the kids, tried to talk to them and take them away early.. this despite desperate pleas by the authorities to leave the kids alone. It was most embarrassing. Talk about role models!

Then along came Annual Day
I loved the concept of the concert. A little boy roams the world in search of a hidden treasure. He meets people from various countries, learning about their cultures, dances and songs, but finds no treasure only to realise that the people of the world are the real treasure. Nice, isn’t it?

H was a in a Russian dance while N was in a full-on Punjabi Daler Mehendi number. Hrit is a reluctant dancer and being paired off with a girl only made it harder in his current I-hate-girls phase.

He refused to wear makeup covering his mouth and running around the house shouting ‘No No No”. Then he insisted if he wore makeup, N would have to wear a moustache. So much for equality.

For N of course it was a dream come true. She was getting to dance, on a stage, wear an armful of bangles, huge earrings, a long parandi and makeup too.. what more could a girl want? The makeup was fun, the only catch being she wanted to run to the dressing table after each dab….. lipstick.. run to the mirror, blusher run to the mirror, eye makeup run to the mirror,… tiring I tell you. The parandi gave me plenty of grief as I tried to fix it onto N’s tiny ponytail. Finally it was all done and I left them to play while I went to dress up.

I’d barely turned my back when I heard a yell from N. I should have guessed it.. the parandi was too much of a bait for H and obviously he’d pulled it off! With an eye on the clock I rushed to fix it again. H was so miffed at the dressing down he just refused to go. Calling upon the gods to grant me patience I sat down to reason with him pretending I had all the time in the world. Finally I convinced him to come along with us to drop N giving him the option of making up his mind along the way. Thank the Good Lord he agreed.

ALL DRESSED UP: A still grumpy H and a cheery N in our lobby

I rushed to make myself decent.. which essentially meant wiping off sweat and throwing on a pair of jeans and a shirt (Really, what would I do without those) and we were off.

Then the autowallah decided he needed petrol and the petrol pump happened to be in a diametrically opposite direction (thereby strengthening my resolve — must must learn to drive). Just as I giving the driver some solid khari khoti “I think I will go for the annual day,” announced H. To the autowallah’s total surprise I miraculously transformed into the nice lady that I’d originally seemed to be. Kids, I tell you, can twist your moods around like nobody can. So it was that we reached school in pretty good humour.

H danced well enough but with his head bent down. I love it when my naughty restless son goes all shy. I gave him a tight mental hug. N was in her element. She danced like a dream – she was the best in the group – of course from a totally biased mum’s point of view. I found myself on my feet blowing kisses.

They came away completely thrilled and excited.. even H who went so reluctantly. FIL, MIL, The Husband, kids and I … dinner at Kareem’s followed by ice cream… can a day be more perfect?

Vivalicious

What a happening week this has been! Monday.. the in-laws came over to the complete excitement of the kids. They cleaned their room, argued with the maid when she put something in the cupboard we’d emptied out for them, did their namastes and feet-touching with enthusiasm and generally made the grandparents feel welcome in a way only kids can.

School was suspended as they had a host of fun activities lined up. First there was Viva… which is a fun carnival with contests and workshops.. art and craft, dancing and singing, fancy dress.. it’s all there. Then the kids had their Sports Day followed by the Annual Day.

I was all excited for Viva and had thought I’d have Hrit Naisha participate in as many contests as they possibly could. However, what with the in-laws being here, me not knowing how to drive a four wheeler and The Husband all grumpy about ferrying us around because it made him a half a nanosecond late for work :-@ (that’s an angry smiley, in case you didn’t know.. hey that’s an oxymoron — angry smiley).. umm where was I? Yes.. what with all of that I barely managed to get them there.

And thus my first New Year resolution is formed.. learn to drive. Coming back — they participated in something called Recreate Picasso where they had to create a painting using colours/ paints/ glitter/ dried flowers etc. They made Christmas trees and put whatever they could find on it. They seemed to have had fun going by the glitter on their sweaters :-).

While they were at the contest I had an hour and half to kill (going and coming not being an option) and I wandered off to watch other competitions. There was one called Stories Come Alive where the a kid and parent duo had to dress up like two characters of a story. It was amazing what the parents had come up with and the enthusiasm which they participated. There was a mama Peter Pan duelling a tiny Captain Hook as well as a small Peter Pan fighting a daddy Captain Hook. A diminutive Chacha Chaudhary paired off with a daddy Sabu while a small Batman punched a huge Joker daddy right in the stomach. There was a monkey with a mama cap seller, a beautiful Rapunzel with a daddy Prince (my absolute favourite!) and of course a small Jerry with a huge Tom. Oh and how can I forget — a minuscule Cinderella with a mama Fairy God mother. The small girl, scared of the crowd, ran crying to her ‘fairy god mother’ who hugged her, twirled her around, pulled off her tattered dress to reveal a princess costume, kissed her soundly then picked her up before executing a perfect ramp walk.. totally totally endearing. I actually found myself tearing up.

Now a confession.. I felt awful for not letting Naisha having a go at this one. This was so her scene. She would have enjoyed it any day more than the painting..I know. How she loves the arclights! Sad that she has a mama who’s a bad case of stage fright. I actually considered the possibility but I dismissed it telling myself ‘no conveyance’. I should have gone for Naisha.. I could have done it with her and maybe gotten over my fear too and learnt to have fun. But I let it go…

And so another resolution… I’ll not let an opportunity like this one go by next time round.

Signing off now… will keep the Sports Day and Annual Day saga for tomorrow.. a saga it is … every small event is a big story with the kids around.