Thursday, December 19, 2013

Of concerts, hospitals, and a poem!

This past weekend was eventful indeed!
Saturday morning was unusually relaxed for us- ever since we've moved here we have been busy, either in the house or chasing/being chased by the bank!
We even had coffee with our breakfast (we usually have buttermilk or juice), lounged around, and relaxed after lunch.
We went with our younger daughter to hear Anoushka Shankar at the Talkatora Indoor Stadium.
Google maps helped us upto a point, after which we had to ask our way. It was not an easy route, so we felt very triumphant when we finally got there.
We stood in line for about forty minutes until entry into the venue commenced.
It was really interesting.  I'd never heard Anoushka Shankar play before, and was charmed both by her performance and her compositions. She was accompanied by a vocalist who also played the piano and the cello, a cellist who also played the piano, a mridang player, who also played the morchang and the ghaatam, a shehnai player, and a percussionist who played the drums as well as a wholly enchanting instrument I'd never heard before: the hang. Here's a sample for those of you who are as ignorant as we were. It was a truly memorable evening. It was also memorable in that the RE actually shared the bar of dark chocolate that I had in my handbag: he is a wonderful spouse who only gets me good chocolate but never eats any! (Our daughter didn't want any).
We went straight to our older daughter's home, so that we wouldn't miss much of  '24', a highly action packed TV serial that is broadcast on Friday and Saturday. She'd made a fabulous kheer with jaggery, so we had our dessert before going home for a late dinner.

Even though we were up till late, I woke up early on Sunday morning and was pottering around in the kitchen when I heard the RE stir. I entered our room and he asked me to call his nephew ( a cardiologist) as his pulse was racing. We were advised to go to the hospital at once, and treatment for tachycardia was started immediately.  The doctors spoke of perhaps having to give an electric shock if the patient didn't respond to the intravenous medication. The kids all rallied around, and we spent time together, being allowed to see the patient only very briefly at infrequent intervals. We were most relieved when he responded to the injections and was allowed to go home on Tuesday afternoon.

On Wednesday the Resident Poet came up with this gem:

Dil ka Dimaag

Dil ka kya hai, woh to baccha hai
Bachpan se jawani tak kitnee bar
Humey rulaaya or pitwaya hai
Dil ka kya tha, kaheen bhi ulajh jata tha
Badnam hum hote they, gam ke ansoo hum bahaate
Humne socha sattheeaney ke baad sambhal gaya hoga

Per parsoan to hadd ho gayee
Laga belagaam ghode sa bhaagney, hospital pahunchey
Doctor ne apni bhasha mey bataaya,
Humey yeh samajh mai aaya
Shock de kar usey raah pe lana hoga
Shock ke naam se Dil thoda ghabraaya
Humney usey samjhaya:
Dekh abhee bahut kam baaqi hain
Aanewali potee ko Mahabharata kee kahani sunani hai,
Aam aadmi ki party ko Dilli kee gaddi dilanee hai
Ek rotey dost ko manaana hai
Ram key lakhon bhai Shyam kee naukree ka jugaad lagaana hai
Philhal toh dil maan gaya hai
Per dil ka kya, dil to baccha hai, akal ka kaccha hai
Per imaandar aur saccha hai

Imaandaar aur saccha hai,
Iraadey ka pakka hai
Dimaag ke sotey shaayar ko jaga
Yeh khud behak kar sambhal gaya

The various tests conducted in the hospital did not indicate any specific cause.
My personal belief is that it was the unexpected combination of chocolate and coffee (which he is not at all used to) which might have caused the tachycardia. The doctor has asked him to avoid tea and coffee, so the RE is drinking hot lemon and honey instead, and relishing it. He is absolutely convinced that his heart went crazy for awhile- dil ka dimaag is the new phrase in our lives.
He's relaxing at home now, and will go for a check up next week.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Strange Dream

I dreamt, this morning,
that I'd had a fight with my mother
and she'd gone to stay
with my sister-in-law
(my husband's sister,
not my brother's wife).
And when I get back
from whereverI had to go to,
ready to apologise, and to hug her
I see her at home, sitting,
forlorn, thinner and paler than I've ever seen her
in a dull peachy beige saree,
her eyes bereft, and I know that she's a widow
which is really very strange,
as she predeceased my father
nearly four years ago..........