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Every year towards the end of Ramzan, my family would pack our bags and the car and go to Vellore. From the important 25th and 26th roza onwards, we would be in Vellore. I was very young at that time, and there is very little I actually recall, but some memories emerge now and then.
On the night of the 26th roza, Vellore (at least our part of Vellore) would be decked out grandly. Many groups , religious groups would band together and there would be \’maulood\’ readings in the night.
This never failed to excite me. The groups would actually come in processions down the narrow streets, with speakers and bright lights. You could call it a parade of sorts. Every group would try to outdo the other in making their (for want of a better word, let me use this here) \’float\’ most attractive. Men with loud voices would chant arabic and urdu prayers, which almost always seemed to be set to the tune of some latest Hindi film hit!
Women would peep out from windows and children would stare at the procession unabashedly. How I longed to be a part of that procession! To follow them through the narrow gallis and the meandering roads! My elder cousins had no qualms about running after them, but I had to stay back, because Ammi wouldn\’t let me go.
Most of the times, I\’d be fast asleep by the time the \’maulood\’ appeared. But I\’d try my best to stay awake.
After the excitement of the maulood, there was the even more palpable excitement of Eid!
On Eid morning, ammi would wake up Jun and me softly. She didn\’t want us to make too much noise because she didn\’t want us to wake up Rasheed baba who slept in the adjacent room and shared the bathroom with us. Every year, it was such fun to try and take a bath before Rasheed baba got up and hogged the bathroom all for himself!
Then, ammi and I would watch abbu and Jun leave with my cousins and uncles and we\’d retreat to read Fajr namaz. By this time, I was really, really hungry although it was probably just 7 am. I would run off to play with Anjum, while ammi joined the other ladies in the kitchen to start preparations for the huge Eid breakfast.
At the Eid breakfast, there would be crisply fried kheema samosas and khara vermicelli. Another well-loved item was the plain, boiled vermicelli which would be topped with hot milk and sprinkled with a mixture of shredded kopra, fried nuts and dates.
Once the Eid breakfast was done, once again, the men would leave for the Eid namaz. ( I might have got this slightly wrong here. I don\’t remember whether they left for namaz before breakfast or not..but then, does it really matter now!)
We would watch all the men of our family leave in one huge group, everyone wearing new clothes, scented with attar, eyes watering as applying surma was not everyone\’s best skill. Once the men left, the women and the girls too would get ready and read the Eid namaz together in the hall. Always, there would be someone who would argue about something and then someone would have to quell them. Laughter and then giggling and then someone hushing, telling us to read namaz quickly before the men come back.
After the 2 rakats of Eid namaz were read, we would all embrace each other, one by one, wishing Eid Mubarak. The men would return soon, and then we would wish them too.
The clamouring for Eidi also would start soon, and abbu would distribute eidi to us in the distinctive red chinese covers. Every year, he\’d keep an extra ten in one cover for some lucky child. I never got that extra ten ever.
Eid lunch would again be biriyani and chicken fry or mutton chops after which most of my cousins would leave for their nani houses in different towns, while we stayed back as my nani lived in Vellore itself.
Eid changed dramatically after my father passed away. One by one, we all stopped going to Vellore for eid, and now eid is just a shadow of what it was before. Only one year, about 11 to 12 years ago, we all congregated in Vellore for Eid and had a lot of fun, but after that things just changed too much.
Everyone celebrates Eid in their own houses now. We all meet towards the end of the day when we go to meet Bade Baba in his house. Eidi is not such a big deal as the younger generation has not learnt yet to fight and clamour for it, like we used to. For them, a fifty or a hundred also is no big deal.
Three days after Eid, I happened to go to Vellore, en route to Chennai. The entrance to our galli reminded me of the days gone by. In those days, almost over night the skies in Vellore would be green, as tiny green flags fluttered everywhere above us on the streets. This time, there were no green flags, but yes, the festive spirit which I remember so wistfully was there.
I’m going through a lot of stuff right now. There’s a wedding in my house in barely a week. And there are other things, more important in my head, that I don’t want to explicitly mention here. However, I still want to talk about it. In a roundabout way. Just to get it out of my system. If this rambling sounds weird, don’t bother reading the rest.
Sometimes there are conflicting emotions inside me. When I laugh over Azhaan’s antics, in a flash I remember everything, and once again, inside my head, I’m thinking that what is the point? What’s the point of laughing today, when tomorrow laughter may never visit me? I know it sounds stupid, but it is these thoughts that are taking away the joy of living.
I’m not overly depressed, but I’m just pissed off at certain events in my life that I wish had never happened. There are times when I also realize that worrying obsessively about it will not solve it. Why worry today when I know that nothing I can do will ever change it?
Ok, rant over. I can’t add any more without sounding even more spaced out.
…..what would I do for Saboor’s breakfast every morning??!! Thank goodness they opened up around 5 years ago, and have ever since been a source of relief to me. If I haven’t been able to make breakfast for Sab, for various reasons, ranging from being lazy, to not having slept much in the night thanks to Az, I can always count on Balaji Veg, the small Darshini thats practically next door to our house!
Sometimes I wonder if its such a good thing, giving Sab idlis from there for lunch. But with Sab, whatever lunch I make and send him, he never eats it. Whatever it is. I, very foolishly attempted at making biryani for him, and sent it in his tiffin box. The biryani came back untouched. There were two reasons, apparently. It didn’t look or taste like biryani. And it had become cold and sort of congealed itself around the edges and everywhere else.
I was never such a fuss pot I thought. Then I remembered that I never used to take lunch from home in the morning. Ammi would always prepare lunch for me, and send it through our maid Rambha every day. So I always got to eat fresh, and even piping hot food…whether it was just rice, and some curry, or sometimes even a chicken piece and papad and cucumber slices.
Things were different back then, I guess. Baldwins allowed maids to come in during lunch hour to deliver lunches to scores of other girls like me. They changed their policy sometime later I think, and I dont know what its like now.
And for Sab, in St.Pauls, I dont think they allow parents to come and deliver lunch. And it would very well have to be me only, who does the extra trip to school, in between taking care of Az, trying to finish office work, and plenty of other things. Still, that doesn’t reduce my guilt or make me feel any better.
I often try out sandwiches, slapping mayo on bread, and chicken pieces and cucumber bits. He likes that, but he gets bored with it very soon.
I was browsing the internet the other day, and came across this website. To say that I was ashamed of myself, and humbled…its an understatement.
(((((
Tomorrow, I’ll make Alu paratha for him. Thats something he eats without much fuss. Till then, its Balaji Veg only…
We get to see so many of them these days. I feel really sorry for the small kids who do all sorts of contortions and twist their bodies unimaginably, just to earn a few rupees. Worse is seeing their parents beating the drum, while a smaller child looks on. No idea whether the smaller child knows or not that in a few months, its going to be the next item on the rope.
Sorry to say but Azhaan’s pics on his birthday didn’t come out well. These were the only ones I could salvage…Click here to view them.
Check out some of the pictures of the kids I took on Eid…
Click here.
So Azhaan had his first birthday on October 12th. Everything went on beautifully except for something at the end of the day that marred my joy. But i\’m not here to talk about that. I want to talk about what we did for Azhaan\’s birthday.
At first, I wasn\’t planning on having a big celebration or anything. I thought I\’ll call over ammi and thats it..no one else. Just us, my in-laws, ammi and Sidra. But then, I was thinking that it wasn\’t fair that Sab had a big first birthday and Az wouldn\’t have one. So I made myself get enthusiastic about the whole thing and with ammi\’s help, it turned out into quite an event.
Everyone was thinking that Eid would be the next day, on 13th and I thought so too. Since it was Ramzan, we thought of having an Iftiyaar party. Ammi made haleem, and we got samosas from Albert Bakery in Fraser Town. Ammi had made thick custard with fruits and nuts in it, and we served fresh fruits also. And yes, ammi had also made Chicken Haryali tikka…which she didn\’t fry or roast in the oven. What she did was put it in a huge kadai, and slowly drizzled some oil around the sides and let the chicken cook on the stove on slow heat.
After this heavy duty iftiyaar, I thought that people were not going to have place for cake. But what a cake it was!!!! An absolutely smashing Zebra Gateux from Sweet Chariot.
[There had been a slight mix-up at the bakery with some miscommunication between me and the guy who took the order. He thought I wanted the cake on Thursday and I kept telling him I wanted it on Friday. He was then telling me to come and take it on Thursday anyway, as it would be ready. Very foolishly I agreed and then forgot about it on Thursday. He called to remind me and when I asked him if I could take it on Friday itself, he said they couldn\'t.
I dragged ammi and myself to the Sweet Chariot bakery in BTM,(as we had booked the cake there) and to my shock, I realised that the 3kg cake was in no way going to fit inside our fridge at home! The man kept insisting I take it home because if he kept it in his pastry counter, he would have to keep it switched on all night, which wasn\'t possible.
I was almost in tears. It was a fresh cream cake which would spoil if left outside. Mansoor was glaring at me, asking me why I had agreed to take the cake on Thursday when the birthday was on Friday, and ammi was not being too helpful either. Mansoor finally said that we might have to cut it in two and take it.
By now, I was really going to cry. I asked the lady who owns the shop if they could cut the cake and give it to us. I suppose the thought of cutting that beautiful \'A\' shaped cake before the birthday made her feel a little compassionate and they agreed to keep the cake. ]
So, the cake was awesome and everyone admired it. When Az had cut the cake, he didn\’t seem to want it at all…which was a bit embarrassing with so many people looking on! Mansoor then got down to cut thick slices of the cake for everyone, and almost everyone seemed to want a second helping!
Az\’s first birthday was very tiring for me(did all the decorations and made \’A\’ badges for all the kids), for ammi(she made the haleem and all the other stuff too) and for Sidra(who vacuumed the house after all the mess had been left around).
Next year, its going to be a small affair. Inshallah!
We’ve been seeing this phenomenon unfurl before us almost everyday, and each time, we’re almost not prepared for it.
Whenever Azhaan and Rayaan are on the ground together, there are plenty of chances that Rayaan will crawl towards Az, hoping to give him a kiss. Ray is a very affectionate baby, and he likes to give slobbery kisses to everyone who comes his way. Especially Az.
Az however, turns around and whacks Ray with whatever toy he has in his hand. Either that, or he gives him a slap right across his face, scratches him, and the worst, leans forward to bite him.
Oh how he loves to bite Ray! Ray just has to pass by him, crawling or whatever, and Az will lean forward, grab Ray’s shirt and pull him over for one bite. No matter how many times this has happened, we’re still not prepared for it. Luckily Az hasn’t really bitten Ray as yet. We pull them apart just in time. Poor Ray never understands that he’s better off, far away from Az. And Az is waiting, waiting for that one moment when he can sink his emerging baby teeth into Ray’s plump arm, or leg or whatever body part he can find.
Today, he had almost got Ray when MIL and I pulled them apart. And you won’t believe it. But Az started crying. Apparently, he was upset that we didn’t let him bite Ray.
Az gets a kick out of seeing other children. He starts waving his arms and jumping in my arms making it very difficult to hold him. He even babbles, saying “babbi” and ‘Bay-bee”..but what happens to him when he sees Ray, is anyone’s guess. I’m just hoping this won’t grow into something that will cause us a lot of worry when they begin to grow older!
At last all the jibes and the open insults got to me. And I cleaned my room. Its not fully clean yet. There are still places that are dusty, but its a vast improvement from before. Where earlier we were living in about five kgs of dust, its radically gone down to probably a kilo now.
So, what was I doing, waiting for the dust to accumulate so much?
Well – no justifications. I’m plain lazy.
But the truth is, I do dust. I dust only the visible things, like the computer table (haven’t dusted under it..and I shudder to think how much dust there is). I dust my dressing table when its fully covered with stray talcum powder and I dust the TV occasionally.
However, big time dusting, is not for me. I just can’t motivate myself enough to push the curtains aside to dust the windows.
Today however, there was something inside me that egged me on to just do it. I covered the bed with newspapers and swiped off slithery dust thingies from the edges of the fan. I pulled off the curtains and wiped the cobwebs and actually started washing down the windows, when the disgruntled shop owner from below came outside his shop and looked to see what kind of an idiot I was.
Then my sweet baby Saboor…he actually took Colin and a dust mop and swiped and cleaned and cleaned and swiped whatever surfaces he could find. Of course, there are still some surfaces that are covered with clothes and the like, but hey, I’m not perfect and this is just a start towards living in a clean room at least!
When Mansoor came back home, Saboor proudly and expansively told him, “I cleaned everything. Ammi just dusted some of the windows. “
So far, curtains have been washed and are out drying in the chill night air. There’s one more batch of curtains that need to be washed before I can put them up. I was remembering Farida from my story ‘Curtains’ when I was yanking them off the rods!
A couple of days back, I had gone to the tailor in our area with Anjum. Both Rayaan and Azhaan were with us. I had finished speaking to the tailor and was waiting for Anjum to finish talking to him, when I came outside. The tailor shop is actually in the garage of a house. I stepped outside as Az was getting really excited on seeing all the colourful scraps of cloth strewn about.
Opposite the tailor\’s shop was a house I had seen many times before. After all, just a step away from this house is Saboor\’s erstwhile kindergarten, First Step. I remembered that there was a small girl who used to come to the school at that time. She was not even 2 years old and her mother had enrolled her for just an hour a day to keep her out of her hair. Also because she was expecting again and needed the rest badly I think!:D
I don\’t know if its the same girl or her younger sister(the one who was born after her), but there was a girl on the steps of the house, and she was standing with a small boy (presumably her cousin). They were holding a few small plastic boxes and were getting instructions from the maid who went inside after speaking to them.
Then, excitedly, they got down to work. They were going to make a rangoli!
I watched the girl carefully sprinkle the coloured powder on the ground and by the time she was finished, I was smiling. She was guiding the little boy importantly, telling him to put only \’dots\’ near the border, and he was managing to make them into many dots. Still, they seemed to be having a good time.
I walked up to them, and asked if I could take a picture. Without any reservation, shyness, or even a sense of pride, the girl said \’yes\’. I told them this looked like a \’Christmas Rangoli\’ to me, what with the profusion of red and green, but the little girl wasn\’t able to connect to what I was saying. I quickly snapped up a pic on my cell phone and came back to wait for Anjum.
