Pickle traditions

Ever since I got this live streaming box through which I can watch Indian channels, I have been hooked onto this channel called Living Foodz. The name of the channel speaks for itself, yes its a cooking and food travel channel. Some of the well known chefs of India have their cooking shows and many of them travel around India to discover the various tastes and cuisines of different regions in the country.

I was always fascinated and interested to travel to the various regions of India and explore their cuisine. So this channel has totally attracted me and I am hooked onto it. There is this one show in which chef Kunal Kapur goes on a pickle journey of India. Pickle is definitely an integral part of our Indian cuisine and different regions have different recipes and a key ingredient which forms the main protagnonist of the pickle. I happened to be watching this one episode when chef Kunal Kapur went to Tamil Nadu and he was exploring the pickles in a TamBram family. This immediately caught my attention because I see an aged Iyengar mami all set to describe the pickle tradition that ran in her family. I was totally tuned to it as I am an Iyengar by birth and I am always intrigued by the culture and tradition. So there were three generations featured in this family, the mother in law who spoke seasoned and cultured Hindi with few lines of polished English. She was traditionally dressed in her Madisar and a long namaam (tilak) adorning her forehead. She was directing her daughter in law who was an elderly lady herself and there was an occasional appearance of her grand children and her daughter. They were sitting in the courtyard of their traditional house and they were going to explain how to make Sundakkai pickle. Sundakkai is a tiny green colored berry which is rather sour in taste and its best eaten as a pickle with curd rice. As they guided chef Kunal in making the pickle, they spoke about the traditional pickling rituals. Apparently the household had a separate room for storing the pickle jars. The lady of the family used to enter the room only in certain days in a week and they were not allowed to enter in certain times of the month. Mostly the eldest lady in the household would enter the pickle room, monitor the pickle and stir them in the jar while the rest of the family stood outside the room, enjoying the fragrances of the various pickles. The interesting piece of information was that during the eclipse, the pickle room would be locked from outside using Durbha grass so that the harmful rays of the eclipse would not spoil the pickles that are stored in the room. I don't know if many would call this being superstitious or there was some truth behind it. But I was extremely fascinated. Chef Kunal mentioned a very thought provoking statement to the grand daughters before he could sign off from that place. Many of the traditional activities that were carried out in the kitchen by the lady of the household bring the whole family together and they are passed down as memories for the next generation. Though the mother of the little girls grew up in that household watching her mother and grand mother making these pickles, she does not venture into them but then they will live with her as memories. Also important thing to note is that all these traditional recipes are lost with time and technology.

The next household which chef Kunal visited was also an Iyengar household where the husband also participated actively in the preparation of pickles. Apparently pickles are considered so holy that they are worshipped every day. The lamp and incense stick is even shown to the pickles. They shared the recipe of Mahali pickle which is sweet smelling root. They spoke so fondly of how their mother used to make this pickle and serve it with huge bowls of curd rice. It just reminds me of my childhood and all the loving memories such a simple dish can bring out. This particular episode also showcased how the whole family can spend time together on such a simple activity and yet have a memorable time doing it.

I have really missed such a wonderful part of my childhood which is the time with grand parents. I have never seen my grand parents as they passed away way before I was born. We learn so much from them and I was put into deep thoughts after watching this episode. A lot of our culture and traditions are being lost in this race behind westernization and modernization.

Chef Kunal definitely added a nostalgic touch to the episode by kissing the hand of the lady who showed him how to make the Mahali pickle. I am sure he understands and values the importance of all the tradition that runs behind different regions.

I wish I can visit some traditional household
some day and learn the traditional recipes and pass it down to the next generation.

Muslim or humanity

I had a very interesting experience which for most would have been a regular happening and it would have been so for me too but for the perception we have about Islam, thanks to the extremist groups that exist in this world. I wouldn't like to stress too much on extremism, religion and terrorism because its very personal topic and everyone has their views on it. I will just narrate my incident which got me thinking and leave it to you my dear friends to infer your thoughts on it.

My trip to India was coming to an end. I was waiting in Mumbai airport for my flight to Newark. As I was waiting for my boarding pass since I was travelling as a standby passenger, my eyes fell on this middle aged lady who had airport assistance. I did not pay much attention initially but for her few actions where in I observed she was wearing a lot of gold bangles in both her hands, an elaborate mangalsutra coupled with another gold necklace. She was repacking her suitcase for some reason and I noticed her folding a fuchsia colored sari with an intricate gold embroidered border. OK now for some of my friends, this would go against my earlier statement of 'I did not pay much attention'. She spoke in beautiful Urdu language which sounded like music to the ear and so polite in rendering the language too. Every sentence had the reference to Allah which in an ideal scenario would have sounded as a God respecting person but for the things happening in the world today in the name of Allah it would sound as fanaticism.

As soon as I got my boarding pass, it was time to run for security and immigration and I forgot about her momentarily, little did I know that she would be my neighbor in the flight. We first got speaking when the steward asked us our meal preference since we were just about to be pampered in our business class seats. She said she could read some Hindi but could not read English and she requested if I could help in translating messages to the steward which I gladly accepted. We got into a conversation and what a polite lady, I must say. She has been travelling for the last ten years to her daughter's place in Chicago, of which she has traveled 6 times by herself and four times with her shauhar (husband) as she addressed him. She told me about her fasting as we are in the holy month of Ramadan and how the Koran says that they should not fast while traveling but make up for the days when they have completed the traveling. Her Hindi was a melodic blend of Urdu and Hindi with some of the key words in Urdu that gave her Hindi a very poetic sound. I started to get myself comfortable with the in-flight movies and I asked her if she needed a hand with the movies and she said she had been to Haj a few years back and after that she stopped watching films. After dinner we both got busy with our own activities, she went off to sleep while I watched some movies and went to sleep myself. She woke up in the morning to her morning duties, brushed and got ready. I noticed she had a very polite way of thanking the staff as they served her, she said 'Thank you very much' in her soft way that even the staff replied to her in a very touching tone of 'You are most welcome'. I don't mean to sound rude but not many Indians thank people whom they don't know. Probably its the Urdu touch. When it was time to land, I could sense her praying and as the flight touched the runway, she thanked out aloud and I asked her if she was scared and she said no, I am thankful that Allah has brought us safely and may Allah do good to all. Good things should happen to everyone and Allah will do good to all. It really touched me. We landed really early in the morning, even before customs opened so we were expected to stay in the plane till customs opened. That meant half an hour on board the plane. She requested me if I could give her my phone so that she could call her daughter to let her know that she has landed. Her daughter appeared really worried because I could hear aunty pacifying her and assuring her that she would be absolutely fine. She kept telling her that why would you be worried, this is not the first time I am coming and I will manage it, don't you worry. It was such a touching gesture, firstly I can understand why her daughter was worried because her mum knew no English, she needed help to fill the immigration form and Newark is a huge transit airport. But the confidence with which she assured her daughter was commendable and she displayed the emotions of a mother to her daughter which is way beyond religion.

I thought I would help her till the luggage counter as that was the common point till where we could be together since we were going in different directions after that. But then while leaving the flight, I noticed she was having wheelchair assistance. I decided to go ahead but couldn't stop thinking about her. I completed my immigration and got my luggage and decided to wait there for her and that was when her daughter called me and told me that she has gotten a confirmed ticket for her mum to Chicago while earlier she was going to fly as a standby. She asked me if I could convey the message to her mum and I told her that I was waiting for her mum any which ways. As soon as I saw aunty come through, I gave her the message but the wheelchair assistance guy just mechanically wheeled her through and checked in her luggage for the standby flight while I was running behind them. Finally we managed to print her boarding pass as per the confirmed flight which was scheduled for 3:15 pm and she blessed me profusely in that melodious language and she was so happy.

The flight's gate was still not announced and I wonder where the attendant would have dropped her, I am still in Newark airport waiting for my flight and it is more than six hours since we have separated. I thought I should go to her gate and check if she is alright but the gate announcement is not done yet. I cant stop wondering where she would be waiting and how she would communicate with her daughter with no phone.

I have been wondering, we all meet for a purpose, why was I chosen to be with her? She reminded me of my mother and I thought I was helping my mother. Her devotion to Allah will surely take her safely. I must have been her medium to get her through a certain point, Allah would have appointed me but would He have communicated with Krishna to resource me out for some time to help his devotee? LoL.. And we fight around in the name of religion to achieve what? I was sitting in the food court and people watching and it struck me that in an ideal world this incident would be just any other one because man is always helping people. Man is an emotional, social animal but with the skepticism that we show towards Muslims these days, is it really worth generalizing and they are no lesser a loving human being. On the other hand, do they really need to fight in the name of Allah, when He too just wants us to love one and all!! I will leave you all thinking. As for me, I thought I helped my mother.

Taste of Shabree

My trip to India has just begun and I have begun my journey with good old Pune, my home. It feels so blissful to be at home with your family, to be in the surroundings you grew up in and the warmth and the flood of beautiful memories. My trip would never be complete without visiting Shabree, this is my favorite restaurant that serves traditional Maharashtrian thali. For those who are unsure of what thali means (as it also stands for the mangalsutra for people coming from southern part of India), thali signifies an Indian meal which consists of an assortment of vegetables, dals, kadhis, pickle, salad, pappad along with rice or roti and accompanied with a sweet or two. Shabree is one such place in Pune that is famous for their Maharashtrian vegetarian thali.

Shabree is tucked neatly in a quaint corner in the otherwise crowded FC road which is also called Fergusson college road. The restaurant is right behind a Vitthal temple and it also has a hotel associated with it. Apart from serving regular restaurant menu, Shabree is very well known for their thali. The curries are generally rotated based on the seasonal vegetables but some of the standards are the pitla, koshimbir, bakrachi roti (roti made of bakri flour), papad, tikhat thecha (hot red chilli paste), lasun chutney (garlic chutney), pickle, curd, sadha bhat (plain rice), thalipeeth. I will get into the details of the mouth watering dishes ;-)

As you enter the restaurant, you are greeted with some traditional Maharashtrian decor made in brass. Men in brass wearing the traditional marathi phetha (turban), beautiful brass lamps and flowers. You walk into the double glass doors to tables arranged with chairs in denominations of four or six and ofcourse they do join tables if there are bigger crowds. The tables are beautifully arranged with steel platters, steel plates with five steel katoris or cups and a steel spoon. All the katoris are uniformly of the same size and are arranged very meticulously and neatly. The walls are adorned with frames of Warli art. The ambiance is very warm and welcoming. Once you are seated, the serving of the food begins. There is an order in which the items are served, first onion slices and lemon along with pickle, hirwa thecha, lasun chutney (garlic chutney) are served neatly on the plate followed by wangi bharit, zunka and koshimbir. The koshimbir is a salad made out of cucumber, yoghurt, peanut powder with some pound cumin. Zunka is a very traditional dish made out of chickpea flour and it is eaten along with bhakri which is a roti made out of bajra flour. It is next the turn of the katoris to be filled with mouth watering curries. One of the server comes around with serving bowls containing four curries. On this particular day they served Dodaka rassa (ridge gourd gravy), harbara usal (sprouts), kadhi (a thin gravy made out of yoghurt and flavored with spices) and amti (traditional maharastrian daal). Once the katoris are filled another person comes with the sweet dish and there is one katori dedicated for this purpose. On this day there was yummy custard with an assortment of fruits and tiny grape sized gulab jamuns. The katoris are brimming with sumptuous food and is waiting to be dug into, which would not be possible without the breads. A happy old gentleman whom I have been seeing doing this task for almost for than 20 years comes around with a content smile and a basket that contains the bread. There are two kinds of breads, one is a well rounded, perfectly shaped chapati which is lined with some ghee and the other is a semi circle of well baked bhakri roti. You are given an option to chose among the two rotis or you are even welcome to take both. Another person comes around with papad, and farsaan items and on this particular day it was tawa thalipeeth and mulyachi cape. Mulyachi cape is a deep fried snack made out of thin slices of radish, dipped in a thick batter of chick pea flour and some spices like turmeric powder, chilli powder and salt. Its time to devour the yummy spread which would be refilled on a regular basis by the friendly staff. This is not the end, once you are done with the rotis, it is time for some rice delicacies, a well spiced khichdi made out of rice and moong dal comes around which is served with ghee. My favorite combination is khichdi with the mango pickle. The grande finale of the sumptuous meal is plain white rice called as sada bhath which can be eaten along with the kadhi, set curd or the amti.

I feel places that serve thali truly signifies the Indian sayin "Athithi devo bhava", which literally translates to "Guest is God". The visitors are served lovingly as though one serves their own family members. Some of the people working in Shabree have been there for more than 20 years, thats how long I have seen them there, they could have been working longer. They have that same vigor, the welcoming and content smile and the ever willingness to serve and feed people. I wanted to take a pic of those gentlemen but they got busy with the ever increasing visitors.

Shabree has food from different regions of maharashtra and some of the regions that were advertised on that particular day was a menu from konkan and Vidarbha.

I was a very satisfied guest that day and I am definitely going to make another visit before I leave Pune.

Long time in hiatus

Its been a long time since I have blogged though I have had many thoughts on which I could write. My passion has reignited and I hope to be more frequent in my blog. I have been travelling a fair bit and the travel bug in me has sparked again and we are set out on our next journey.

We just finished a stint of Kuala Lumpur and surroundings of KL and now we are going to set out on a journey to Thailand. I am really looking forward to this trip which is just a few days away. I have been doing a fair bit of reading on things to do and see in Thailand and it seems amazing. The rich culture, the tradition, the night life, all of them seem to be a great blend between the east and the west. I have just purchased my kindle version of the Lonely Planet for Thailand. 

I will update the blog with the Thailand adventures as soon as I am back from the trip. I am excited and Thailand here we come...

To Pune - with Love

I was not born in Pune and nor is it my native place, my arrival in Pune was just a matter of chance but ever since Pune is my home and has been for 17 years. I left Pune in 2007 as a newly married bride to be with my hubby which in turn took me out of India. I would be going to Pune for a holiday to be with my family. The count down has almost begun but I am already in trance dreaming about my dear Pune. The beautiful path down to Pune University through IUCAA and the walking tracks is already enticing me to put on my runners and tread down that path. Pune University has a majestic building with a beautiful garden in front of it. I have walked down that path many years and shared a laugh or two with my dear friends. As we were growing up we used to see romancing couples sitting on various benches and talking to each other and we used to whizz past them on our bikes, giggling and laughing. The walking track near the university entrance has seen as so many times as we used to take rounds around the track and at exact 7 am we used to deposit ourselves to watch the laughing club do their share of laughter. I am just yearning to go back to the beautiful University.


The scenic roads of Range Hills amidst the military quarters is a charm on its own. Its has another getaway to go to Pune University through one of the many roads that leads to the University.That was my route to go to most of the destination, that road saw me growing right from my visits to Preeti (my best friend) home to going for Biology tuitions in 12th grade to going to get my braces fixed and removed and last but not the least for the friday program.The road from Rangehill led to Bhosale Nagar which was considered a very elite and posh locality, it had such a homely touch to it.


FC road another path tread so often, starting with the Gyaneshwar Paduka chowk which was so full of activity in the evening, the bhajans and kirtans filling the air with devotion. The numerous restaurants buzzing with activity among which is a restaurant called Nirankar which had seen us (my mother,brother and myself) so often during our school days. We always had the veg thali there and there was this one waiter who always catered to us, I wonder if he is still around as we saw the restaurant changing a couple of managements. We then found Shabree and I still go there whenever I go to Pune. The authentic Maratha Maharashtrian thali is amazing and mouth watering. Not a single weekend went by without us visiting FC road and walking by the busy street and seeing the numrous teenage kids catching up with their friends. The kutchi Dabeli fellow dishing out delicious cheese and plain dabeli outside of HongKong lane another lane where we all go to buy our jewellery and bags. 


Parallel to FC road is Jangli Maharaj road which has the enormous Sambhaji park which we used to fondly call Chimpanzee Park.The park hosts an array of Bhel walas who call out to you as soon as you as you pass by their stalls. All of them are busy dishing out bhels with varied intensity of spice, some of them are sweet and some of them are really hot based on your requirements.There is one particular stall which is always bustling with activity and that used to be our dedicated halt.JM Road also has a chain of Udupi restaurants where they serve an array of traditional dosas. As we were growing we used to always visit Subhadra and order a variety of dishes of which dal fry and jeera rice was a must.My brother and I used to visit different restaurants in JM Road.


Go a little further down and you enter the bustling Laxmi road, filled with shops and people. People shopping for different occasions and people shopping on a regular basis. Its the place for the shopaholics where you can get ethnic wear for all price ranges. Its so lively and filled with colors and smiles, the welcoming atmosphere to shop for your clothes. I remember those festive times when we were taken to Laxmi road to buy clothes. Those were such wonderful days and the trip to Tulsi Bagh during Ganesh Chathurthi to buy flowers and paraphrenalia which has still maintained its old architecture and wadas. There are so many shops and street hawkers that there is just enough space for a person to walk at a time. The flower sellers have their huge baskets of flowers arranged in an order ready to be sold and offered to God. In the centre of Tulsi bagh stands Dagdusheth Ganpati so majestically facing the road and blessing every passer by. No one goes by without bowing quickly to the Lord. During the Ganesh festival the place is filled with activity with various pandals raised and depicting many a mythological tales in a diorama. The beat of drums and cymbals on the day of immersion to different tunes is breath taking. As kids we used to assemble infront of our local pandal and watch the different themes each day. 


Last but not the least is dear old MG Road which is more modernised version than Laxmi road. The more elite shopping malls with all their goods and the jewellery shops with all their imitation and cosmetic jewellery. very enticing indeed. The place has mostly Parsis. As kids appa used to bring us to MG Road and we used to go shopping and make a visit to Dorabjee where we were treated to some yummy puff pastry. There was also this street vendor who used to make amazing dhokla chaat with this assortement of red and green chutneys. Trips to MG road was also frequent during college days when we studied in Nowrosjee Wadia college. That was an era of its own which requires a separate blog. Such beautiful days when we were studying and such beautiful memories. We used to go to Westend theatre to watch movies and also the trip ISKCON temple.ISKCON temple also holds many strong memories for me which was very much a part of my growing up mentally and spiritually. 


I can feel Pune as I write every line of this blog. The paths I have travelled with my parents and my friends. Every step is so memorable and so much at home. I miss Pune.

RajaGopal Swamy temple - Mannargudi, Tamil Nadu

December 2008 saw us making a trip to India. After two weeks of relaxation at parents place in Pune, we had decided to embark on an epic visit to temples in Tamil Nadu. Amma and myself started off first from Pune to Bangalore. After spending two days in Bangalore, catching up with friends we decided to head to Chennai and received Gopi and appa. From there begins the journey, starting with Chennai music festival followed by our epic journey. we visited many places but I would like to start with Mannargudi. Our driver for the trip's name was Rajani (it seems his father was a fan of Rajnikanth- filmstar and thats where he got his name). He comes from this town named Mannargudi.

Mannargudi was not in our itinerary of visit. We went to a couple of piligrim centres and Rajani was our guide for the trip. We had given him the entire responsibility of deciding the places. We used to halt the night at the last place of worship. But this time Rajani decided to change this trend. He decided to halt the night at Mannargudi. At first I thought Rajani stole the oppurtunity to visit Mannaargudi, his native place this way, since he had his sister living there. But I dint realise then what was in store for us the next day...The next day saw us getting ready to start for an other epic tour and Rajani said lets start with Rajagopal swamy temple Mannargudi. We reached there and appa had terrible knee ache, so it was only Gopi, myself and amma who made our way inside the temple.

The moment we entered the venue all three of us were struck with awe. The serenity of the place was the first thing that captured us, the gopuram is huge and the pillars are magnificent.The place was empty but there was this in-depth silence and the place was dark with sunlight trickling in from different places. Gopi, our photographer of the trip was busy capturing shots when the manager of the temple came and asked us to leave the camera in the temple office and collect it after the darshan. But then seeing the size of the camera (digital SLR, we fondly call it the mainframe) he decided to let it be with us but with the assurance that we dont take any more pics. We complied to his requests and proceeded further on. The temple seemed totally empty in that magnitude of space and then we come across this one priest and he does a small archana for us at a pillar and gives us kumkum and then we get to know that he is deaf and dumb. It really captivated us. We gave some dakshina and we moved on...Then we go to the main sanctum of Perumal, which was really beautiful and how I wished we were allowed to take pictures so that I can always cherish the sight. The priest performed an archana for the previous set of devotees and then it was our turn. He was one of the most humble and happy priest I saw. He had this beautiful serene smile on his face and he performed the archana for us. He then asked me if I would like to carry Santana Gopal in my hand and rock Him. It seems if you rock Santana Gopal and make a prayer, your wishes will be fulfilled and I happily obliged. The priest got a cradle out from inside the sanctum with baby Krsna lying in the cradle and gave the cradle to me. Gopi and amma joined in too and the priest rocked it for us with the three of us holding the cradle whilst chanting some mantras and we make our silent prayers. It was so captivating a moment. He asked us where are you from and amma replied to him that Gopi and I have come from Melbourne, Australia. He was happily listening to us while walking to and fro to the sanctum and also replying from in there. It felt so homely and he said that his brother has just finished training and is now a priest in the Venkateswara temple in Sydney. I just thought what a small world and how globalisation has taken its form. From there we made our way to Thayar's sanctum and there was a beautiful site awaiting us there too... Thayar in her beautiful pattu sari and graciously adorning the jewellery is such a beautiful sight, my imagination fails to perceive the magnanimity of Her beauty in Vaikuntha... From there we made our way to Lord Hanuman's sanctum, it was a quiet dark sanctum and again we came across a deaf and dumb priest. This time I was dumb struck, to see two people with the same disability at the same place seemed like too much of a deja-vu. Maybe my scope of vision is too primitive to realise that there could be many out there in that small town who cant hear and speak but at that particular instant I was just taken by surprise. After performing the archana for us, he took a paper and scooped out some prasadam for us in that. When I think back about that moment I feel like reaching out to them and wanting to do something for those priests. (I would maybe discuss this in my forth coming blogs). We take the prasadam and finish our darshan and start to head out of the temple. Thinking we just had a heavy breakfast before setting out to the temple, we decide to give the prasadam to someone in the temple. We saw a lady cleaning the temple premise and amma thought we can hand it over to her. The first unspoken priest we came across was watching us. The moment he saw us handing the prasadam to the sweeper lady, he expressed a silent disgust. I did feel embarassed at that moment and expressed it to amma. We came out quickly to join appa and Rajani who were waiting for us in the car. We were constantly praising the ambience of the place and the aura it held. There is a beautiful kolam outside the temple. All in all I enjoyed Mannargudi to the most.

All this time I was under the impression that RajaGopala swamy temple was less noticed and tucked in a small town until last week when I googled the place and came across some very interesting links. The temple is indeed very well known and has got a remarkable history behind it. Please read the following blog to get more information about the temple.

http://prtraveller.blogspot.com/2007/05/mannargudi-rajagopalaswamy-temple.html

An Ode to Motherhood..

"The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new." ~Rajneesh

The scriptures state that there are many forms of love in this world, love between siblings, love between two lovers, love between friends but it is stated that the love between the mother and child is the most purest form of love in this material world. Amma, Maa, Mummy, we use different ways to call out to our mothers but it all signifies the same relationship the same bonding which a mother shares which her child. The day she gives birth to her bundle of joy bearing all the pressures and the pain, she herself takes a new birth from a woman to a mother. I would like to dedicate my first blog to this unique relation and to my dearest mother.

I can date back to the time when I have vivid recollection of my existence. As I travel down memory lane, I see myself. a little girl in two tight long pig tails being taken to school by my dear mother. She drops me in kindergarden to be received by the smiling face of the teacher who is a known acquaintance and also the kinder teacher of my older brother. They exchange some pleasantaries and I am left under the protection of the teacher. I enter the classroom with a big smile and my mother returns back home maybe with mixed feelings, pondering on whats running in her little daughter's mind. Whilst she is pondering, her little baby is crying in class due to unknown reasons. The teacher is trying hard to pacify me but all I want at that time is my mother,I cry and cry and simply fall asleep only to be woken up by the welcoming smile of my mother. I felt so secured when she was around me that time and hopped and skipped back home with her. My face used to break into million grins and not a single day went by when my dear mother never got me blanched almonds which I used to munch and jump along.The phase of childhood when your mother is an inseparable entity, your only friend.

Not long after I enter primary school, a surge of intelligence sets in, I made many friends became more confident of the surroundings and enjoyed going to school. My dear mother still dropped me to school, being the protective self when all my friends walked alone to school or went by matadors. I often wondered and thought I can go alone to school, I know the way so well, my little but self claimed intelligent mind was talking me into going to school alone. I spoke to amma so many times but she just turnd it down. We still returned back from school together every afternoon with me hopping around and entered the local bakala (grocery store in the gulf) where she brought me a prince polo chocolate everyday. I had a 50 fils treat everyday and an occasional prince polo plus funny faces(a chips having different funny faces) treat. Come school picnic amma always gave me an assortment of options to choose in the bakala, from an array of soft drinks to pick, a prince polo bar without fail some few packs of chips of which I never missed picking up a pack of funny faces. She also sent along her own hand made sandwiches which I relished to the core. My independent self still made its appearance many a times and one afternoon while returning from school I insisted to amma that I wanted to play downstairs and inspite of repeated protests from amma I still stood firm by my decision. She took my bag and went upstairs while I waited for my friend, after a few moments of wait I decided I must return home. while climbing up the stairs I was joined by an Arab who appeared very friendly and asked me which floor a flat number existed. As I happily guided him and accompanied him till I reached my floor, he started getting too friendly which got me scared and I ran up the stairs uttering the only one word which gave me security - Amma. I was 8 years old then but was always very close to Appa and always overlooked amma while she worked away in a sublime manner in the background, looking after my every needs. I always felt amma liked my brother more than me only failing to understand how she subtly monitored me and took care of me at every step. I was growing into a tomboy and she always aspired to see me in pattu pavade and frocks while I strutted around in shorts and t-shirts. She kept designing all these beautiful outfits for me while I refused to wear them but that never deterred her from making more and also getting matching hair clips and matching bindis. Her only chance to dress me that way was every friday when I went to Bal Vihar class in Chinmaya mission where she adorned me ethnic clothes and kohl filled eyes. How I wish I could get back those days amma and be how you wanted me to be and sit by your side.

Years flew by and I entered adolescence, amma saw me growing from her small girl to a young lady. She still packed my favorite lunch to school and watched me going to high school. Often she would go and wait down at my bus stop while I got ready so that she could ask my school bus conductor to hold on for a few seconds while her daughter ever running late in time comes running down. The early onset of adolescence again saw me becoming inseparable with amma. We used to go to the nearby temple every evening for the 730 arati and sometimes saw ourselves running to be there on time. We had our evening walks together and our joint sessions at buying wada pavs from the latest wada pav joint which served delicious wada pavs. Amma saw me going through a face where I was so conscious about myself and my appearance. She talked me out of my negative thoughts about my figure by pointing out the right curves I carried. She imbibed in me positive thoughts about my appearance. As I was progressing to the higher grades in school, amma saw me elected as the asst social service prefect and she was so filled with pride seeing her daughter adorning the badge that she went and thanked my teacher for nominating me. At that moment it felt that there was no need to thank the teacher because I deserved to be there least realising amma's humble disposal and the joy she felt for me.

Years passed as I kept growing progressing from class to class and then entered college. I had a beautiful junior college life, enjoying with friends but still so close to amma. We still went for our walks and exchanged all the latest gossips about the town. As the 12th board exams approached, I worked very hard but never gave much importance for my botany subject. On the day of the exam I was too nervous and felt I would fail the exam, seeing my nervousness amma decided to accompany me to college and she sat the whole day in college till I finished attempting two subjects and she was my silent source of support.

Graduation saw me overtly independent. I had formed a great group of friends and we used to hang around together before and after college. I was going through this phase where I felt I could take good care of myself and my boldness saw no limits. I used to come considerably late from college after hanging around with my friends(late as per Indian standards). My route home saw me crossing the Khadki railway station which was considerably dark and lonely, but when I get down from the bus or the train I see amma there waiting for me in the station so that I dont need to tread home alone. So much was the subtle communication between the two of us, there was no mobile phones then and she dint know when I was to return but she used to come and wait for me at the station. I was greeted by a big warm smile and we used to walk home together.

Before long, I see I have finished my studies and I am moving to Bangalore to join Infosys and I am married. I have finished 26 years of my life with amma and now I am moving to another household. Such is the life of a girl where you have to leave your dear mother and go to another house. Amma cried a lot when she boarded the train from Bangalore to Pune after leaving me there with my husband.