Anecdotes from my childhood-Part One

These are some incidents which happened in my life and the fact that I remember them after several years makes them interesting and sometimes funny.

 

1)      As far back as I can remember, my having lunch/dinner at home invariably found me with a book in one hand and the other picking food off the plate Mom placed in front of me.  So engrossed in reading that I was hardly aware of what was going into my mouth!  Poor mom! Sometimes  she used to prepare a variety of dishes which would include a sweet dish, vegetable curry, a dry vegetable dish, chips, rice and Indian bread.  In order to avoid the fuss of picking at each dish, I simply mixed everything up into the rice and ate it with the chapathi.  Why? The book I  happened to be reading was more interesting than anything else.  Eating was just another chore I had to bear with.  Poor Ma! She loved feeding me the most and I didn’t appreciate her efforts(mystery of my girth solved!) enough.  She used to prepare Potato Tikkas which had to be fried twice(now that’s loading calories) but I loved the once-fried ones so she gave them to me the way I liked them as a pre lunch snack(Now there’s no doubt at all!). 

 

She used to prepare awesome sweets.  They were popular within our family circles and in huge demand.  Dad’s sisters who lived in Pune and Chembur made it a point to ask Mom to prepare “Bombay Halwa” whenever they came visiting.  I used to steal them.   Though Mom knew I stole she never said anything.  But if she saw my sisters reaching out for them, their hands were swatted away. 

2)      During summer vacations, Mom wanted to turn us into perfect women by teaching us to do some knitting, embroidery work, stitching, cooking, arranging the table et al.  If she gave us a project, like knitting or stitching, I would finish it hastily because I had more interesting things to do like playing carom with my neighbor, the inevitable story I had to finish reading, play tomboyish games with the kids in the whole building.  We lived in a sprawling building with too many houses to count and altogether a whole bunch of kids.  Had a gala time when we were small.

3)      I flunked all subjects in 12^th, except languages.  Reading too many novels when I should have been studying.  Giving more importance to shorthand and typing classes.  The break helped give me a lot of perspective about a lot of things.  Meanwhile, had fun with my parents.  We used to play card games and carom.  Even with money!  No one could defeat my dad either in card games or carom.  With carom, he was a hard hitter and with one powerful flick, the pawns used to be scattered all over the board.  Confusing mild players like me and mom.  If we gambled, he used to win all our money.  I think he would have done well as a professional gambler.  For fun, we used to look at the races featured in the newspaper and I used to hazard a guess as to which horse would win.  Surprisingly, my guesses would be correct.  At least the first few times.  Dad used to be puzzled, “How do you do it”?  At first I didn’t explain the logic I applied.  Simple really.  I used to look at the history of the Jockeys! Whoever had a higher success rate invariably made his horse come first.  When I explained this, my dad just looked at me stunned.  Both of us had a special bond.  An immense understanding.  I miss him so much.  The first year of his death, I cried every evening remembering our conversations.  Even after I was married, he used to come to my place every evening.  Share some interesting news from the newspaper.  Invariably over a cup of tea.  His dad was a licensed electric contractor and a member  of the Association of Electrical Engineers, Mysore(those days the state was known by this name).  My dad was a rebel.  He could have helped his dad with his business.  It was not that he wasn’t smart.  He resented his Dad and just wanted to give him a hard time.  My grandpa was a strict disciplinarian.  I remember his face to this day(strange because he passed away when I was 7) and I don’t think he ever smiled.  Vague memories of his speaking to me are all I have though I don’t know what he said.  He used to lie down on that four poster bed and allow me to lie down on his shoulder and he used to talk, while I listened.  Something must have been absorbed in the sub conscious because I am a strict disciplinarian too.  But I enjoy life as well.  He never did.  But he had 7 kids so we know where he got his release.  Six daughters and one son.  My dad being the youngest and doted on by his sisters and mother.  A thoroughly spoiled brat.  He thought he could sail through life supported by his sisters.  He was so wrong.  Once they were married they became helpless to do anything for him.  Poor dad!