Saraswati Puja with Basant Panchami

I have vague memories in childhood celebrating Saraswati Puja in my aunt's school. I remember I went to her school, we worshiped the slate and put haldi on it, offered flowers and got some sweets to eat. This obviously must be way before I started formal school as we visited nani’s place only in school holidays.
There was zero association with it in growing years as I grew up in convent school. I have no memories of any celebration of it.
Post my marriage however, I started celebrating Saraswati Puja with all Bengali fervour. So it was a festive time of eating luchis and labra tarkari and all the bong sweets. As years passed by I made efforts to know about Saraswati Puja. So trying to put some information here It is the second important festival that come right after Makar Sankanti and also marks the arrival of spring and is celebrated largely in India. In Eastern side  and some parts of Maharashtra it is more significantly celebrated as Saraswati Puja. I am not aware how it is celebrated in other parts of India. Maa Saraswati is associated with learning, wisdom, knowledge and people worship Maa Saraswati to attain enlightenment through knowledge.

for all novices like me - Saraswati Puja is celebrated on Vasant Panchami. It
The color yellow plays an important role in Vasant Panchami as it is related to the bloom of mustard flowers in the Northern India and is also considered auspicious. People wear yellow colored garments, decorate doors with yellow marigold flowers. Make rangoli’s outside their doors and also make sweets like saffron rice. Another ritual that is  followed also about flying kites especially in Northern India. The whole sky is full of kites on that day.
However in modern times most of these celebrations are getting lost and also the significance of it too is losing his relevance.

The times when I saw movies@ Rs.1.80 - What a feeling !!!

We were not allowed much pocket money when I was in college. I came from a household that strictly believed that money spoils children. So whatever your need, you had to place it in front of parents. And they would fulfill what they thought were appropriate. You had no scope to throw tantrums. The bus fare was 50 paise one way. I would cycle up and save the money in junior college. The fare that was saved was used up to buy a samosa or some earring or the best use it was put to was to watch English movies.  The most disappointing thing about college life was no 5 day week. Now after being in a 5 day week school, this was most torturous aspect. The only bright thing was Alankar Theatre in Pune used to play Morning shows of English movies. So we would run for 9 am show and finish by 11am to reach college just in time.

I saw many movies in those two years, most of them I have forgotten but some distinctly I remember were- Flashdance, The Promise by Danielle Steel, Saturday Nite Fever, Grease and many more.It was cheap, affordable and fun. All in all, I had so much fun in very little allowance.Today the whole movie outing is a super expensive trip. I think Flashdance stayed in my mind because I kept humming What a Feeling..all thorough my cycling time...la Jennifer Beals style :). I think also believed that Yeh Vada Raaha was a better version

of The Promise ;) 
I would tell my mom about these movie businesses or where I went out with who but never my dad for sure. My mom had explicit trust in me and I think that's something intrinsic to and also wonderful about a mother-daughter relationship. And I think I was a good child who never complained about anything.

Cheers to almighty

Today I start another year in my life. My day started with calls from my parents and that was great blessing indeed.

I decided to write a letter to God. As I started, I wondered whether I should write about what I haven't achieved or should I count my blessings and so I started with blessings..and the result was humbling..I have so much to count.
Firstly the year that has gone by was so much better than last year. Hope the next year is better than previous year. I have completed half my life on earth and he has given me so much that I can' thank him enough. A beautiful daughter, loving parents, wonderful husband, a great brother, a loving family, good health, an adorable pet, great monies and you gave me great friends and house of my own.
He gave me strength to rise above all adversities and gave me a spiritual pursuit.He gave me a Guru to guide me through all woes of life. If I look around, I see people struggling with no love, no monies, no children, no family, no health...and then I realized I am so blessed.

Having said this is what I plan for the coming years and hope he blesses me.

I have started my business and plan to start an educational school. A school that will help children get education. Will teach them better values, health and healthy outlook.It will not be something that just mints money. I plan to start an NGO that can support women in distress, give them employment and create livelihood support . I plan to live in hills and meditate a bit longer each day. So I remain closer to him.

Anger doesn't remain and nor do we

I had a strange experience a year back or so. I neighbor of mine used to park his car in such a way that it would it would make it difficult to remove the bikes parked just beside it. The bikes then would end up scratching his car's bumper. One day I happen to meet the guy just as his car pulled up. I went up to him and requested that if could park his car a little ahead, it would help the situation. I also felt that he will be thankful because I was looking out for his car. To my utter horror, the guy rolled down his windows and screamed his lungs out stating that it was his parking and he can choose to park in whichever way. Other peoples convenience wasn't his problem. And that he will not like someone coming and instructing him where to park his car. I was with a friend and we both were flabbergasted. I was too pissed to say anything further and said 'FINE'. The neighbours wife was also in passenger seat. The poor woman looked very embarrassed. Me and my friend left the place wondering if the guy had lost his marbles and probably comes from a land where they don't know how to talk to a woman. I, of course cursed him and muttered in anger if he is going to take his parking along with him to heaven too.

I kept bumping into him often, especially on morning walks. I was mad at him so I looked away or avoided him. He was embarrassed so he looked away. As a few months passed, I came to know that he was a nice person. So I wondered then why did he behave in that fashion. Later I came to know that he was suffering from cancer. So I wondered whether that was the day that may be his bad report had come in but then I felt that still doesn't give you a right to behave badly.  As few more months went by, I rarely saw him. He had become frail and walked like an old man( he was in his 50's). I had long stopped feeling resentful towards him.

Time passed. I often walked in the morning and whenever I saw him, I wondered if should go up to him and talk.But I lacked the courage or reason or will, I don't know, to go up to him and talk.

Life went by and this morning I got the news that he passed away.And I felt a strange remorse that I too never gave him an opportunity to make amends.

As the old saying goes- Life is too short to hold anything....
certainly anger and resentment.

The Diwali that I grew up with....

Diwali for me meant getting up early, making colorful rangoli outside the main door. This rangoli business was a saga by itself. One was never happy with the design , so several attempts were made to get it to the level of expectation.  Lighting up diyas- making wicks and pouring oil and re-lighting all those that went out with wind. Stringing together marigold flowers to make long garlands for all doors, this I am told is strictly Maharashtrian  custom, buying ready made garlands was too expensive. Help mom in making namkins. The aroma of sauteed besan, for making besan ka ladoo was just heavenly. The perfect frying of chaklis. The crisp chiwda. Oh the effort that Mom took over it! I gave up bursting crackers when I was 13 -14 years old, in protest against child labourers used in Sivkashi factories and never ever turned back  to it. new clothes were made, so fabric had to be purchased, designs were fussed upon and then were tailored by mom.There was this huge excitement about wearing new clothes on Diwali day. Elaborate Laxmi pujan. and the wonderful prasad after it. Visiting various aunts and uncles in the evening and eating sweets and namkins. Comparisons were obvious about which aunt made these Diwali specialties better than others or us. Neighbours and relatives sent across plates filled with sweets and namkins. I don't remember  a single year receiving or sending plates across on Diwali- who does that any more? Bhai-duj was a mela, with so many cousins, one was bound to get rich.

As I grew up, started to work, traditions turned into convenience. I married a Bengali, so Diwali got less significant over the years. I got too tired working long hours, so getting up early became difficult(long hours were a part of my work). I still get up and make Rangolis, but fuss much less over it. Most of my family is fast asleep. Garlands are ready made. Nobody ate savouries at my home so I stopped bothering about it. And if did get into the mood of making some, I just made and gave it to my friends. One impulsively buys clothes through the year so it took the fun out of wearing new clothes on Diwali.There were no aunts and uncles in Mumbai , so no one just went any where except movie theatres and malls. I hate card parties, so thankfully never got into them.Visit to Mom's house became a one day event at best 2 days. Bhai-duj happened only with my brother now. My aunt calls me but my better half would like to spend time with his friends, who drink and eat non-veg. Who wants to eat savouries on Diwali? or my family would much prefer to eat at Mainland China than eat simple home food that day.

Every time I go to my mom's or my granny's house I feel twinge of sadness, all the small- small traditions that I associated Diwali with for one quarter of a century got left behind in the next 18 years of work life. And a small part of old me got slowly left behind by a new me.

Dhatura, Atlas and its effects on my life

Today, while walking down the defense cantonment road leading to my house, I saw the lovely Dhatura plant and it was like finding a lost treasure. Dhatura has most magnificent tubular flowers in white colour. The leaves are dark green with a purplish sheen on it. Purple sheen is seen only at an angle. And the fruits are green in color, circular balls with spikes all over it. Dhatura made me go back into school times like flashback.

In 8th standard, I discovered a new side to my life and strangely it was a subject called Biology that made me discover love- my love for plants, leaves, seeds. I always liked them and now I was getting marks for it. I think, it was in 8th standard that we had a whole chapter on plants with seeds and Dhatura was one of them. We were staying in a cantonment area with plenty of wilderness around. So finding the plant was no problem at all. We had a lovely teacher 'Sunita Saxena' who was an ex-student and was very young, vibrant teacher. A young in age (or at heart) and vibrant teacher means a lot of fun to her students.  These people are open to learning and their friendly approach makes them relate-able and the subject interesting. Most old teachers come with the notion that they are avatars of Brahma and there is nothing new left for them to learn on this planet.

So Biology teacher asked us to get a Dhatura plant to school and I was happy to volunteer for it. This began my fascination for the plant. I collected a big plant that had a few flowers, fruits. So took them along to school with great pride. Teacher was very happy and I was pleased, at least one teacher was happy at some work that I did. Some brownie points in life.In my school, teachers only registered the top rankers. All others were treated as useless piece of furniture. Next job was to press the flowers and stick dried flowers in biology journal. So promptly the flowers were pressed in a largest book in our kitty. And that large book was Atlas. So I took a Europe page and pressed these flowers, kept a weight on it. After a few days when I opened, I found that flowers had caught fungus, molds and ate a few parts of countries. Wherever the flowers had been pressed those countries all had eaten by fungus. I consoled myself- thought why will I ever need to refer to Europe, it is anyway never opened. So forgot about it. 

Mother, one day discovered Dhatura fruits, plants and was furious. The seeds are extremely poisonous and can cause death too and so mother just   
threw everything out and warned me against getting them EVER in the house again. A warning in those days meant you had to listen to it. One day father wanted to refer to Europe map, so asked for my Atlas and then had to hear quiet an earful for not keeping the Atlas properly. My father was so particular that I couldn't even underline any sentence in pen, only pencil was to be used.

You see, books were bought as per needs and we were not forced to buy same books every year. Books were meant to be kept clean, neat, not dog-eared so that they can be used by younger siblings or sold at second-hand mart.

Anyway till date, whenever I see Dhatura plant or Atlas book, I remember all the verbal bashing from both my mother and father but my love for that beautiful plant remains intact.

Vikas!

This incident was about 3-4 days back. That morning I got delayed for my morning stroll with Teio. Stroll because Teio ambles along. No walk and definitely not brisk at all. After doing her morning routine, we headed to the park. This is Teio’s favourite place. No idea, why it is so, but she loves it. I saw a young boy of 13/14 years sitting on the bench, neatly dressed in washed blue uniform. Hair neatly oiled and combed, obviously from the nearby municipal school. Not hard to guess that he was bunking school.  I first ignored then thought I must try and talk to him.

His name was Vikas Jadhav. I confronted him with an open question of why he was bunking school. He said he hadn’t completed his home work. Upon prodding further, he told me that he couldn’t manage English, can read but doesn’t understand it. He was embarrassed that when he read aloud all kids laughed at him. Teachers didn’t help much as they were not very good at teaching. In fact they often asked for Gutka/tobacco from students. I nearly fainted. I am not sure of that but I am aware that most municipal schools really lack good teachers. I offered to help but asked him not to bunk school as his parents must be working really hard to send him to school. I made him realise that he was their future. He came from lower middle class. Dad was a tailor at garment factory. He opened a chapter towards the end of the book. I made him read and I explained meanings and the story. He wrote them alongside his text book. He was a bright kid but lack of understanding and ridicule made him shut off. I realised that State board has many mistakes in the book and don’t know if there was any correction from teacher’s side. I had spent 40 minutes explaining the chapter, meanings already. He then bought out his Maths book and asked me if I could do the same. Now this was a googly. I can’t teach Maths and that too in Marathi!!! No way! I said I was sorry, he really couldn’t understand that if I spoke Marathi, why I couldn’t explain Math. I offered to tutor him for English free and asked him what the date for the exams was. This was my second shock -he said four days later. Then I realised he was giving his board exam and the poor chap didn’t know anything. I was appalled at his knowledge. This was definitely not enough to get him through the boards. So asked him what his plan was given the   level of preparation. He said he plans to copy. I for once in my life time said he should do so.

 I could believe I said that. I haven’t ever copied in my life but I guess in my forties I have relaxed this principal. The system of not failing the child, the poor standard of teaching, and the child’s over all learning capabilities, his background- everything was responsible this mess. And I didn’t see any solution except copying and getting out. At least a 10^th pass certificate will get him into some vocational course like ITI etc. And help him earn his livelihood. I was left wondering how many Vikas' out there needed help and what happens to their future. Strange cioncidence the kid's name meant progress.