One remembers the scintillating ‘70s - when one is 70.

I was a BSc (General) student then and studying at Gargi College, Delhi University. Although functioning from an old school building in Lajpat Nagar, Gargi College was vibrant with facilities for academics, sports and co-curricular activities. The college conducted 4 periods of Laboratory work totalling 3 hours each day for the BSc (General) students. There were classes for Basketball, Volley Ball in the early morning after which we were given one bread-pakoda, one apple and one Coke.

The foundation stone of the new building for Gargi College was laid by Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw, the hero of the 1971 war. The crowds were huge.

Years later, I wrote a poem for Owl Magazine 86-87 issue and was privileged to get a photo taken with him at the release of that issue. When I mentioned that I was an alumnus of Gargi College Delhi University and was present at the time he had laid the foundation stone for the new building, the Field Marshal quizzed me, ‘who was your College Principal?’ ‘Indira Thakurdas’, I replied. ‘Ah! You took time to answer that!’ the legendary Sam Bahadur quipped. He certainly was sharp even at that age!

With the legendary 1971 War Hero Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw at the release of the 1986-87 issue of Owl Magazine in Wellington, the Nilgiris, Tamil Nadu.

With the legendary 1971 War Hero Field Marshal Sam Manekshaw at the release of the 1986-87 issue of Owl Magazine in Wellington, the Nilgiris, Tamil Nadu

My 70th Birthday cake - baked by my daughter Nandita.

Amidst the September rains, my daughter Nandita baked a hot butter sponge cake for my 70th birthday. She used an old recipe adding made-in-Kerala Vanilla. 

 

My kind understanding neighbour - the lady from Haryana

It is when faced with the bad and the ugly that one remembers the good. 

 

We were living in 338, Defence Services Officers Enclave Part II, Dhaula Kuan New Delhi. My daughter Nandita had then just become very unwell. The psychiatrist at the Military Hospital had started her treatment with an anti-psychotic. He told us that there would be side-effects and to bring her to the hospital when the side-effects started. When the side-effects started I wrapped my daughter in a shawl and blanket and we took her to the hospital where she was given an injection. We brought her back home in the early hours of the morning. 

At noon my neighbor whom I did not know at all came carrying a tray with a hot meal. She said that she had tried out something new and wanted me to taste it. I thanked her. A few days later when I dropped by at her place to return the dishes, she discreetly asked me,'Beti ki tabiyaat theek nahin hai?' I just nodded. She never mentioned the topic again whenever we met. She brought her mother and grandmother several times to our house in the mornings when they were visiting her. The mother and the grandmother wore colourful pleated skirts (ghagras) and buttoned raw cotton kurtas. They used to bring Doda barfi made in pure ghee for my daughter. That was when I got to know that she was from Haryana and that her husband was a JAG officer in the Indian Army.

THE OLD BALD MAN FROM CHENGANNUR

 

An old bald man from Chengannur,

Married a young pretty lass from Trivandrum. 

He didn't have MI.

He sang tuneless sa-ri-ga-ma slapping his fat thigh.

At night he slinked into the maid-servant's room.

His daughter saw, had a breakdown.

He didn't care a hoot.

This old bald man from Chengannur.

 

Some say mental illness runs in families 

While offering homilies.

Little do they know that incest runs in some 

bloodlines.

Skips a generation maybe. But runs it does.

And how.

 

 

 

 

A Blue Trumpet Vine

Saw a blue trumpet vine while out before the triple lockdown. 

An interesting sight. 

A blue trumpet vine planted and tended to by an unknown gardener in Thiruvananthapuram

The blue trumpet vine which has grown profusely makes for an interesting sight

The blue trumpet vine seems to like the sunshine 

Will the Uniform Civil Code in India further alienate women from traditionally matriarchal & matrilocal cultures?

Fruits of a pandhu lily growing from a bulb planted by my Mother in the laterite soil of Thiruvananthapuram

She attended all the marriages, naming ceremonies, housewarming ceremonies and took part in the rituals after birth and before cremation of the people She knew,their children and grandchildren.

She was not a stranger in the city she lived in, a city chock-a-block with the best hospitals, well-connected with transport facilities and…full of Her relatives.

Yet when She had a stroke, no one came to attend to Her. It took Her one whole week to get to a hospital for treatment. Her son who had taken premature retirement on the grounds of caring for Her yet lived 500 kilometers away working at another job, did not come to Her aid in time. Her daughter-in-law who had Her sympathy for being the impoverished daughter of an alcoholic yet herself too lazy to work for a living and on whom She showered Her love, time and the finest jewels, only held Her in contempt for Her large belly (“no abs at all”) and was too indifferent to care.

I, Her daughter, living over 2000 kilometers away was giving care to my own disabled daughter and her father himself recovering from a recent stroke.

Her niece who was thought to be close to Her and whom She had rescued from a consanguineous marriage to a man she despised whose mother she lived in mortal fear of, ensured that I, Her daughter couldn’t pay Her my last respects. She was cremated before I arrived within a few hours of Her passing. 

Remembering my Mother on Her 8th Death Anniversary.

Will the Uniform Civil Code in India further alienate women from traditionally matriarchal & matrilocal cultures?

Phyllanthus niruri - Keezhanelli

Phyllanthus niruri known as Keezhanelli in Malayalam springing in the rain in Thiruvananthapuram, Kerala.

The south west monsoon has set in.

Keezhanelli standing in a pit of laterite soil brimming with rain water.

There was stillness while collecting the seeds of Keezhanelli after the monsoon had moved from Kerala to other parts of India in 2017.

The tender leaves of Keezhanelli are ground into a paste using coconut milk and given to those convalescing from jaundice and liver ailments.

This was part of the traditional knowledge handed from generation to generation in Travancore.

Keezhanelli is also known as 'stone breaker' in common parlance.