Pappa

Pappa turned 75 day before yesterday. Glorious 75. Glorious because he is healthy and happy. Healthy enough to play a round of golf everyday, happy enough to socialize, go on picnics...............Nothing can give me more peace of mind when it comes to him than the knowledge that he is healthy and happy.

My parents live alone, my brother and I in two different places. Their being healthy means a lot.

I feel happy when I think of Pappa, happy because I know he is fine. When I talk to him, there is so much to catch up on - how his game was, any pars, who he played with. What their plans were, were they going to a friend's or relative's house or were they just staying home. We discuss the latest happenings in our world, we talk about the fish he bought. We talk about just about anything. I cannot imagine things being any other way. The childhood phrase 'my daddy strongest' still holds true for me - true even when he is 75 and me 40. He will always be my pappa and I will always be his little girl!

Pappa taught me to earn my privileges right from when I was very young. He was in the army.  We always had many helping hands at home. We called them 'bhaiyas'. Technically the bhaiya/ sevadar/ batman is detailed for the officer, to ensure that he is fine, that his uniform is set, the shoes polished, the decorations 'brassoed'. However, generally these bhaiyas end up doing many things in the house, one among them being polishing all the shoes in the household. I remember there was an instance when I was dressed to go to school and had unpolished shoes on. Pappa asked the reason for my turnout and when I responded that I was wondering if bhaiya would polish my shoes. Pappa didn't say a word. I went to school with the unpolished shoes on. After that day polishing all the shoes - Pappa's, my brothers and mine was my duty. I really had no choice. White shoes used to be 'blankoed' those days, it was a messy affair, I hated it, yet I did it. I learned how to polish black shoes and how to use a flannel on them such that they shone to the point of reflecting! I learned that for brass to really shine it works best if you apply 'brasso' keep the object/decoration in the sun and then rub it gently with a very soft cloth - preferably flannel. I also learned that to get the black shoes and the brass to shine the hosiery vest worked just as fine if there was no flannel. Above all I learned something called dignity of labour and also more importantly that just because something is my father's be it a material good, money, privilege it certainly does not imply that it is mine as well to enjoy.I learned that I had to work hard to earn it all.

I remember the first songs Pappa taught me - Bachelor Boy and Que Sera Sera. It would be a sing along session. Even now when I hear these songs I associate them with Pappa and they continue to be very close to my heart.

If there is one thing I could hold back it would be time, time in terms of Pappa and Mamma growing older. But each time I see him after a gap of a few months I realize that time is ticking. He is greyer, eyes sunk in deeper, hearing a little more strained. There is nothing I can do about it, I'm helpless!!

It is a frightening thought. I cannot imagine a time when I will not be able to pick up the phone and say "Hi Pappu'.

Where I belong

I have had the good fortune of being brought up across the length and the breadth of this vast country that is India. I also have the good fortune of continuing to live across various locations after I've settled into matrimony.

Pappa was in the Indian Army and my husband is in the Indian Navy. Being in the armed forces means postings every few years. Through all these years of my life - forty so far, I have lived at many places across India and, from these stations visited many more places.

The places I've lived at are many. Pune, Delhi, Jhansi, Bangalore, Cochin (now Kochi), Agartala, Baroda (now Vadodara), Bharuch, Surat, Bombay (now Mumbai), Lonavala, Vasco, Vishakaptnam, Chennai. That's many places and, few places I've lived in more than once!

For many people I meet it's hard to fathom how I can cope with so many moves. Probably, having lived in a particular house, a particular locality, attending the same school, having the same circle of friends, visiting the same markets/stalls/malls all their lives, it does make it hard for them to imagine a 'gypsy' life as many have told me. For me though living in the same place, the same house all your life is something I cannot fathom!!!!!

This brings me to the question of where I belong to? Try as I might, I can never ever pin point any one place which I say is where I belong to. Every place I have ever lived in has been special for me. Never have I felt 'different' in any of these places. Never have I felt that I don't belong. Each place has been a wonderful experience, a learning experience, an enriching experience. Each place has played a huge part in moulding me, in shaping me into who I am today. Above all being in each place has made me realize with pride that I am AN INDIAN.

I am fiercely proud of being an Indian! My heart fills with pride when I think of the diversity which exists in my country, and when I talk of the diversity, it's not the diversity I have read about, it is the diversity I have experienced! Every place had its own cuisine, its own favourite snack, its own style of dressing, its own special sweets, its own language, its own popular mode of transport, its own popular eating joint, its own distinct market places. Amidst all these varied, distinct features of each place there has been this one common spirit, this one binding thread - that of these places being part of this country called India. Was it my coping mechanism that I looked at these places as an Indian, I don't know. What I know is that I've never been out of place in any of these places, I've always belonged!!!!

For me it truly is 'Incredible India'!

Where I'm from - May 2007

I'm from the heat, the 'loo', the hailstones of Jhansi,

From the long-distance trains chugging by,
I'm from the 'ber' tree swinging......
And watching out for the cobra nearby.

I’m from the hide and seek in the old battle tank,

From the ‘jugnus’ of summer evenings………….

And the smell of water sprinkled on roads that are tarred.

I'm from the 'seven-tiles' of Bangalore

From the Sunday School at church.

I’m from the pyramids on the SFX sports field…..

And the roller skating at the park!

I’m from the SFX music room………..

The whole class singing to Miss Pinto’s piano tune.

I’m from the drives on my dad’s Bajaj scooter

Singing ‘Jamaican Farewell’ the song they so love!

I'm from the seventh floor

Of  Fernsons, the first multi-storied of Cochin.

I’m from the Chinese fishing nets at Fort Kochi

To the boat rides to the islands in the sea.

I’m from the necessity of being able to speak in Malayalam

Wondering if I truly belong………..

Trying to find an identity in the many family gatherings.

And really ‘knowing’ the big Jacob family!

I'm from the lone house in Narsingarh at Agartala

Knowing that  the smuggler’s are at work at night.

I’m from the barter system at the Bangladesh border

From a house of cakes and pets and many fruit trees!

I’m from the long bus ride to the KV in Kunjaban

Being taught by the Sinhas and the Yadav’s.

I’m from the girl guides- camping, travelling and………. believing in me!

I'm from the blue BSA cycle at Baroda,

Riding alongside the red 6065 RX100!

I’m from the yapping sessions at the MSU canteen……..

And the ‘cutting chais’ on the Fatehganj pavements!

I’m from the glorious times at 6 PG hall

With a Kenyan, a Sudanese and an Indian as roomies!

I’m from the secret visits to the NDA canteen

And the many phone calls and letters which then meant existence!

I'm from a childhood of different places, people and languages

Of different cultures, foods and experiences!

I’m from an adult life of even more varied cultures, foods, experiences

Of different places, people and languages,

But all in all………………….

 I am ME !!