Books make a difference!

A very early memory is of my sister and I huddled up together in our brother's bed (he was away at college), reading. Rather, my sister is reading to me, and I'm all ears for the story, and all eyes for the illustrations and the odd word that I can follow. She possessed a magical power that let her access the story locked within the book, and I didn't, at that time. But soon, random letters danced into comprehensible words, and sign boards and cereal boxes and detergent cartons, all shared their secrets with me: I was reading! Noddy books, the Famous Five, Fatty and his gang, all the usual suspects became a part of my young life.
My father loved to read- we would look on , mystified, as he exploded into loud laughter while reading a P.G.Wodehouse. My mother was not a big reader, (she was fond of magazines) and would get quite tired of all of us having our noses inside a book whenever we had some free time. She never stopped wondering how many times I had read 'Little Women', and she had even locked it up once to keep it out of my way. That was a book which seemed so real and so true- sibling rivalry was depicted well, as well as the wisdom of the matriarch. The entire series became an inextricable part of my life. So many books, read and long forgotten, yet permeating one's being with adventure, philosophy, guidance, romance, humour, passion.......... Agatha Christie's murder mysteries were a delight. Wodehouse had me chuckling away, as did the William series.
Bed 'arrest' during pregnancy became bearable only because of books. Hours of waiting for doctors during loved ones' illnesses were accompanied by these portable good friends. Hospital stays, one's own and those of family, are associated with the books read each time. Indian writing in English has had its own fascination, and now, when I visit my library, I automatically seek out 'desi' authors first. They depict an immediate reality, one that strikes home.
When I was young, we did not own very many books. My father had a dictionary, an encyclopaedia, some Readers' Digest condensed books, and their fabulous Great World Atlas. His maternal uncle was very pleased that my sister and I loved books(we often raided his book shelves), so each time we did well in our school exams he would take us across to his neighbouring book store and let both of us choose a book each. We did have a school library, and were members of the Delhi Public Library, which had a mobile library van that came to our lane every Monday afternoon, a veritable treasure trove at our door step. College had a fabulous library, and we had access to the American Library and the British Council Library as well. Each stage of life was accompanied by changes in the kind of books one read, but books have always been part of it. (The SRE loves books too, and buys more than he ever has the time to read, so he hops and skips through them in a most disconcerting fashion, but it keeps him happy!)
It is difficult to name just a few books that influenced me greatly. 'To Kill A Mockingbird' is probably my all time favourite. But there are so many many more, layered in my subconscious, all adding up to a unique set of influences. Salinger introduced me to Eastern philosophy along with the Glass family. Richard Bach's 'Jonathan Livingston Seagull' was a paean to the unique individual within each one of us . M.Scott Peck's 'The Road Less Travelled' helped make sense of life. Eknath Easwaran's books on meditation and spirituality have been a great font of wisdom. Dean Ornish's 'Love and Survival' underlines the truth that without love, life itself is meaningless. Joan Didion's 'The Year of Magical Thinking' helped me deal with my brother's demise. Vikram Seth's 'A Suitable Boy' depicted a reality and a heritage that was part of me. There are so many many more- Sheila Dhar with her incredible warmth and humour and musical erudition, and her total inclusiveness for everything in her life. Ira Pande's 'Diddi', for it's humour and compassion. Much earlier, Nevil Shute's stories of courage, endurance, and the triumph of the human spirit in books like 'Pied Piper', 'A Town Like Alice', and 'Requiem for a a Wren'. Recently, the strongly moral and utterly charming books by Alexander McCall Smith- both those set in Botswana and in Scotland. The list doesn't end......
I hope that I keep 'meeting' more and more wonderful and influential books for the rest of my life, and that, by God's grace, I will be able to read till the end of my life.

BlogHer and BookRenter, a company that rents textbooks to college students, have joined forces because we know that books make a difference.

From May 3-28, together we are working to make a difference in children's lives by generating new books for children who need them most -- via the nonprofit organization First Book.

Want to help? For every answer we receive in the comments to the following question, one book will be donated:

What book has had the greatest impact on your life?

That's right: All you need to do is leave a comment, and BookRenter will donate a book to a child in need -- up to 1,000 books.

Want to help even more? You can blog about our campaign, then add the specific URL of your post to Mr. Linky and we'll add another book to the tally.

Because books really do a make a difference.

There are still a couple of days till the 28th- please do leave a comment, and blog too!

Some thoughts on 'Baghban'

When I last saw the movie Baghban, perhaps a couple of years ago, I was, predictably, moved by it. Hema Malini had never looked more beautiful, and the romance between the aging protagonists appealed greatly. Their sons and daughters-in-law were all expectedly villainous, and Amitabh Bachchan's powerful and emotional speech near the end was extremely moving. Nothing but nothing could justify the sons' cruel behaviour. The kindness of the Gujarati couple played by Paresh Rawal and Lilette Dubey, of their adopted son and his wife(Salman Khan and Mahima Choudhry), and even the bank manager and their old landlord stood out in marked contrast- those with no blood ties proving to be far kinder and more compassionate than their own offspring. The aged are often, sadly, ill treated, and it is indeed tragic to see what cruelty their own children can perpetrate.

However, being my nitpicking self, I did start worrying about this film. Even when I first saw it, I wondered at the protagonist's utter lack of financial acumen. Even though he worked in a bank, he had virtually no savings by the time he retired, since he'd been so busy fulfilling his sons' needs. What kind of lesson was he teaching his sons anyway? To be dependent on your parents beyond your basic education? To be unable to delay gratification
(the youngest one needs to buy a car) until you yourself can afford something? Even if he needed funds for the down payment on the car, there was no talk of repaying the parents at a later date. If Raj Malhotra was infantilising his sons to such an extent, how on earth did he expect them to be a support in his old age?
I then started worrying even more about the lack of family history in the film. Maybe the senior Malhotras were both orphans, and the kids had never had any dealings with any of their grandparents. Their terrible behaviour isn't justified even if they lacked role models, but it did make me wonder. Surely if they had seen tenderness towards the aged in their own childhoods, some remnants would have stayed on with them. The saddest thing was that the Malhotras were not actually old, with any of the attendant genuine problems of old age, which can make dealing with the aged rather difficult at times. They were merely inconvenient, by virtue of basing their lives on a false premise of expectation.
Although they adopted a fifth son, he is educated in a boarding school, and then makes his way abroad for higher education. We don't know if he shares any closeness with his 'brothers'. His attitude towards the Malhotras is one of gratitude, love, and respect, as he knows that his life has been transformed by their intervention. The other sons, in contrast, take their parents for granted, which most of us do anyway, to a greater or lesser extent. I really hated it that when the kids come over for their parents' fortieth wedding anniversary, the parents sleep on the floor. They seemed comfortable enough, but it didn't seem right to me.
I wondered at the parent-child communication in the film. The father's desire to stay with his sons seems to come across to the sons (and their wives) as a huge, unwelcome surprise when he retires, though he has broadcast this idea to his friends and well-wishers often enough. Raj Malhotra's response to the suggestion that he and his wife stay apart, in different cities, for prolonged periods of time, is authentic. Unfortunately his wife's 'kasam' prevents him from speaking his mind and brushing off this ridiculous suggestion for the patent nonsense that it is. The 'maa-ka-dil' once again shows itself responsible for much that goes wrong in our society.
As my eldest child says, why couldn't she prioritise and think of her life with her husband before the kids?
The parents are shown living in a huge and beautiful house in an unnamed small town. The landlord is so kind to them that he refuses to rent out the premises to anyone else, when they are leaving. They seem to be so out-and-out prosperous and privileged, with their huge house, garden, and beautiful dogs, that it is hard to imagine them as virtually penniless.
There was so much in the film that was genuine. If the parents had been stricter and more practical in their earlier days, perhaps they would not have needed to disown their offspring later on.

As you can see, this was indeed a thought provoking film!

Mothers Day Greetings!

My kids sent me a lovely bouquet this morning, which I thought I'd share with you.
( Along with the beautiful rug that the SRE bought in Iran a few years ago).

Posterior musings!

On my way home from my walk, I spent some moments behind a Lhasa Apso. Its waggling fluffy behind reminded me of a blonde, wiggling waggling Kochia! I'm sure that Kochias everywhere are not flattered at this imagery!

Kochia pic from http://www.enjoygardening.com/wp-content//bloggraphics/Kochia201.jpg
Apso pic from http://www.dogbreedinfo.com/images14/LhasaApsoCassie.jpg

Thank You, Indus Ladies!

They sent me this cap for this post, part of the International Woman's Day Blog Contest. Thanks once again, Indus Ladies.

Favourite photos!

These photographs were taken by my older son, when he had escorted my parents to Gummidipoondi in April 2005.

Meethi Chhuri- A sweet knife!

Mala Maasi knew how to keep her visiting nieces entertained! She had loads of natural authority, and was a person whose good opinion held great value. Neha and Diya, however indolent in their own home, would, at their maasi's home, remain on the qui-vive. She would get them to participate in whatever she was doing, and they would be delighted at a word of praise from their aunt. They loved her cooking, which seemed richer and more varied than their mother's repertoire. Their male cousins seemed to expect interesting food, and to Neha and Diya, everything tasted better at Maasi's. Mala Maasi's mother-in-law didn't live with her, she mostly stayed with her older son, but when she was due to visit, Maasi would hide all traces of the onions she normally cooked with, as her mother-in-law was old fashioned, and would not eat in her house if she knew that 'taamsik' food was being cooked there. Her grandsons would wait for the old lady to leave so that they could have raw onions in the salad and gravies redolent with onions and ginger. Although theirs was a vegetarian household, according to their grandmother such food would be completely intolerable.
Neha and Diya would always spend a week at Mala Maasi's house every summer vacation. They were always happy to see their favourite aunt, and were very eager to share whatever was new in their lives with her. Since she had two sons of her own, and no daughters, Mala enjoyed their company and their interests. One memorable year, Diya was terribly excited
as her class teacher had brought peanut brittle to the class picnic, and had also told them how to make it. Since they hadn't had time to make it at home, they decided that they would make it with their dear Maasi.
The peanut brittle became a family project. One cousin was asked to buy a kilo of roasted peanuts from the vendor near the bus stop. The four cousins sat and shelled the roasted nuts, taking care to remove the inner red skins. The younger cousin was eating more peanuts than he was shelling, which annoyed Diya terribly. "Bhaiya, if you eat all the peanuts, how can I make chikki?"
Somehow they managed to save two cups of shelled peanuts. As it was summertime, Mala Maasi didn't have any jaggery in the house, but decided to make the brittle with sugar instead. Mala Maasi took two tablespoonfuls of ghee in a large karhai and added one cup of sugar to this. The sugar melted, and then was caramelised over a low flame. Neha and Diya, in the meantime, greased a large thaali. Once the sugar was a rich brown, Maasi quickly stirred in the peanuts and poured the mixture onto the greased thaali, and set it to cool under the fan in the dining room. Once it cooled down, maasi tried to cut it into pieces with a sharp knife. The brittle was, however, so hard, that a sharp shard flew off and cut her thumb. Neha and Diya looked at the blood oozing from their maasi's thumb with horror. Mala Maasi laughed as she ran cold water over her thumb, "Girls, today we have truly created a 'meethi chhuri', literally a sweet knife!"
They decided that breaking off bits of chikki was better than trying to cut it. It was delicious. They also learned, the next time they made it, to score it with a knife while the mixture was still hot, so that the pieces broke into proper shapes.
Maala Maasi's thumb bore a small scar for the rest of her life, but it didn't diminish her affection for her 'meethi chhuri' nieces one whit.

Peanut brittle:
2 cups roasted and skinned peanuts
1 cup sugar (Add more if you want a sweeter brittle. 1 cup is enough to bind the peanuts)
2 tablespoons ghee

Heat the ghee in a heavy karhai.
Melt the sugar into it over a low flame, till the sugar melts and turns brown.
Add the peanuts and mix well.
Pour into a greased plate and smoothen out the top with a spoon.
Allow to cool.
Break into small pieces and serve.

This post is my contribution to the Food Fiction event hosted by Aquadaze - Of Chalks and Chopsticks.