No one will ever put Baby in a corner...

My dearest Nona,

How much more can I love you!!!

You are the most important ingredient in my life.  Saying 'You keep me grounded' would be giving you too little credit for the wondrous and numerous blessings I've received. Growing up to be a strong and yet stubborn woman, I place that credit at thy feet.

You taught me to persevere during difficult opportune moments, to give my 100% when I had no faith left, to pray till I understood the meaning behind my heart felt litany, to give than to receive, to make do with little and feel as rich as the Queen, to hold my head high, to cry when I was ashamed of my behavior and attitude, to grind in me the realities of life, to teach me how hard work is a measure of success especially when you're not born with the smarts, to lead by example, to find peace during troubling times, to helping me with my studies, to letting me be young, wild and free... To letting me be - Me.

I made a promise before leaving Canada. I don't seem to be willing to live up to my end of the bargain. I'm assuming JC understands because he has let me remain selfish and have you be there for me.

I'll always be numb about that day when you injured yourself. It took me two months to feel like I was in control again.

Day before, you and I were sleeping on the bed. I was hugging Anna. You won't remember but you were patting me and putting me to sleep. I was so overwhelmed that I cried myself to sleep. Happy tears.

You are my Mother,  nana. You have taught me to ask "have you eaten" before thinking of self. You've given me sooo much, I have been unable to repay your generous spirit.

I will always regret not being there for you while I was 'busy' growing up to be an adult. I blame myself for your alzheimers. You gave us everything and I let you down so badly when you needed me the most. I'm trying to make up for that wrong today. I know you don't even recollect these things, but I really am trying to atone for the wrong I've done by you.

I will always love you...  With every beat of my heart, Baby Lily.

From your God child, tramp, hot pants, stupid girl,
Pinchu / Chelsea girl

Baby, bye bye bye... Bangalore!

Why am I the one
Always packing up and gone
I really wish I'd like it if I'd stayed
~FUN

I came to Bangalore with nothing except cold feet, fear of being around people, frightened of my own shadow, a broken mind and heart, a suitcase full of knick knacks which fit right in with what I was feeling - Empty.

It seems like forever that I haven't seen the place that I've called home for 31 years, even though it's only been 3 months.

I've changed. I've grown... Fat, Mentally and Physically strong. Being in control of my emotions has taken me awhile and yet it's been satisfying to witness the constant miracles which have taken place throughout my short and yet meaningful stint here.

The biggest change is finding me able to think before talking... It's not 100% accurate but I've had so many opportunities to get blasted but been saved because of the way I framed my query or the way I addressed someone even while I was angry or the way I held my tongue even though I felt they deserved a lashing.

For me this small and yet noticeable change is what I hope to carry home. Mumbai is a chaotic land and it troubles my soul. Bangalore has fed me freedom of the most desirable kind, a freedom so sweet, a freedom that I've embraced and grown to love.

My fear of going home may seem irrational to some but it is a genuine apprehension of knowing that I'd like to be given an opportunity to spread my wings again.

So many to thank...Where do I begin... I thank myself. For taking this plunge. I thank all those who stood and supported me. I thank all those who envied me, it made me determined to prove you wrong. And always, always, JC for being my one true miracle of life.

The two most visited places in my six months other than work and home have to be Thoms Bakery and Bangalore airport. Commercial Street and RT Nagar come close though.

Im proud of myself. Living on my own. Doing the groceries. Paying the bills. Keeping tab of my expenses. Cooking and keeping the house clean. Backpacking as much as I could around the South. My DIY projects. Learning the city. Listening to the people. Playing the guitar much better. Praying a whole lot more. Understanding myself better.

I know there are many waiting for me to return.. With anticipation and glee. Me? I'm literally dragging my luggage, brain and heart are too heavy at saying goodbye to a city that's given me so much to be thankful for.

Slowly but surely I'm...

Learning to laugh again.
Learning to live again.
Learning to love again.

Remembering our Blessing

28 February will always be Blessing Day for us.

Auntie Brenda moved on to be closer with Christ in December but her memory was lovingly kept alive by Uncle Colin, Aunty Annette, Sanchia and Sharlene. He organised a lunch for 160 kids of a home that was attached to a Church that A. Brenda or as her new baptised name 'Blessing', belonged to.

I've always believed that the best feeling that you can ever experience, is when you give... holding nothing back. What I saw that day was nothing short of a blessed miracle. These kids came from different social and economic backgrounds. While 90% were Christian kids, other faith kids were welcomed to. Pastor John was explaining his mission and how Jesus mentions about helping your house first, before helping others.

I don't agree with his reasoning but as long as he is getting kids off the streets, offering them food, clothing, shelter and an education, who am I to judge?

We played the newspaper game with the younger ones and I was completely in my zone. And yet, I remembered my December 2010 promise.. There's no excuse good enough. Forgive me for being a coward.

A. Annette sat with Uncle's staff to help serve lunch which was a generous portion of Chicken Biryani, Chicken Kebabs, Raita, and sluurrpp vermicilli kheer!

Here's my testament to something beautiful that I experienced. First, all the kids stood in an orderly line. They prayed. With their eyes closed. Sang their prayerful hymn. I felt their belief.

Then they came in line to be served, waiting patiently while one line went and did not budge till the line had ended. When they were finished being served and headed to the mess to eat, they'd stop and ask me: miss, will you come join me. The first time I heard one of the small ones ask me, I was really touched. When each of them kept asking me, my face began to grow warm and I felt so blessed to have met these little ones.

Even when they were done eating, they waited patiently till all their brothers and sisters were done being served before they came for a second helping. Again, in a calm and composed manner.

It was sad to learn that they were being forcefully evicted from their home in May. This is the second time they were being asked to leave. They prayed and fasted the first time and had their prayers answered, the Pastor said.

 

The Pastor's youngest son, Pastor Dhiraj takes on his father's mantle and will guide the flock from this Church soon.

They are always looking for sponsors and benefactors who will offer them love, prayers and financial support and that in kind. If you'd like to help, visit their website: Living Hope

You don't really need to be rich to make a difference to someone's life. There are so so so many ways.

You just have to make time to do the things that are important. For these things there is no glory in the offering except for the kindness and mercy of God.

In this year of Mercy, as mentioned by our Holy Father, may your light shine and may you accept the help and kindess of others... you'll be grateful you did. I assure you.

30 years to get to Mangalore!!!

Some of you know may know this friendly rivalry that Goans and Mangalorean Catholics have (about who is superior!). I love telling Goan folks, jokingly, that as a Mangi I visit their land religiously each year only to give them business. That's when they counterattack saying: When did you last visit the Motherland then?
 I have no answer.
Okay, so many of you would know that my native place is Mangalore but other than me visiting it when I was 6 months old (I can't even remember what I had for lunch), I have no memories.

 

It's been on my bucket list for ever and while I had planned to backpack to my native village and usher in the New Year, a family friend back home mentioned that their entire family was going to be attending a wedding and why don't I tag along?

Sounded like a great plan and since they are like family in Mumbai, it would be comfortable - I said: Yessss!
Soooo happy I did!
It was an epic journey to where so much of my history is rooted in. Taking the bus from Bangalore to Mangalore was a breeze of an eight overnight journey. Popped my pill and snoozed till I heard the bus navigator man (dunno what he's called) yell - BELMAN! It took me awhile to recollect that name for some reason.

Getting off the bus at a shivering 6.30am - it was love at first light and sight!
I had on my backpack and had carried just the one dress and pant-blouse for the wedding functions. Two sets of casual clothes. I had forgotten that this wasn't a backpacking trip where I HAD to leave an impression. Oh well, everyone was soooo drunk 90% of the time, I think we smelt like what we were drinking :P

Since this is my first actual visit to Mangalore this is also my first 'in all its glory' Mangalorean wedding. It was a fantastic experience. I thought I'd get a shut eye once reaching the bride's home, but my bubble went plop as soon as I saw the bride's sister and then the bride - all ready to head to church for the Wedding Mass.
So in the villages, wedding masses are in the day followed by the function as commuting is tricky for many who live far off.

It was a glorious, sun shining and weather perfect kinda day. The Hall was adjacent to the Church. I was really hungry and someone got us these real melt-in-your-mouth yellow bread balls - can't recollect what they were called. Oh but divine!

The wedding toast - I'll never forget. I couldn't stop laughing, because the whole family from both sides were made to stand up and be introduced to those present... till I was told that this is what our tradition is. Wow - I'm not marrying a Mangi from Mangalore at least for a while.
We snuck a couple of drinks soooo close to the Church (Thanks for the experience, Lorrie!) and well, I was in my happy high. They had these cute Old Monk pouches - I'd never seen anything like it. Going back in and dancing and eating three plates of food and just basking in all the merriment that weddings come with - PRICELESS!

Not only is Belman such a tranquil village about an hour and a half hour away from the city of Mangalore, I also got the opportunity to visit Manjalpalke and Karkala. Even though the Bridal party were exhausted with the running around, the traditions and ceremonies and playing and eating and dancing and drinking...

They still took me to see the 42 feet built in 1432 A.D. - Shri Bhagwan Bahubali Digambara statue in Karkala! I went up the hill just before a bus load of schools kids started climbing so I had the place to myself.

It reminded me of the view from the Shankaracharya Temple in Srinagar (Kashmir), Buddha Point overlooking Thimphu (Bhutan), the city view from Amir/Amber Fort in Jaipur (Rajashthan) ... Basically, every monument that I've visited that has a vantage point overlooking the city.

You can see how much fun I had by the brown in my skin, the masala in my fingers from the ‘kuber (shell fish) sukka’ and the glass of fresh ‘toddy’.

After a heavenly 3 glasses of the potent liquid and wiping the masala stains on my pants... we headed back to give everyone a treat of what they'd missed.

I hadn't carried a wedding gift or anything to gift the families whose home I would be invading so I bought the one thing I thought was appropriate - Bottles of McDowell's Whiskey.

This was my first morning after a night of drinks and games (barely remember dinner). I introduced them to whatever games I could remember playing as a kid - Stick in the Mud, Colour Colour, 7 Up, Fire in the Mountain, Tug of War... man, I really really REALLY miss those moments.

New Year's was one crazy-wild-child-alcoholic-game addled frat party - with parents, cousins, religious looking folks, kids, a dog and loads of delicious wild boar and fried fish. From dancing and arguing about how it is impossible that I can be 30 even if my Driver's License says so till 4.30am to finally God alone knows how we found our way to some nook and corner with a blanket and pillow - I'll never know. But thank you, Vinit.

I also started the new year by making a pact with Birdy and letting it all go. A month gone - I'm in repair, I'm not yet better but I'm getting there (:Getting up at 9am to find 6 people squeezed into a bed and sneaking in three bottles of beer to gargle our teeth and begin our morning, if only life could be that way, every day. Sigh*

Truth be told, I don't think any of us began the year by brushing our teeth. We said goodbye to the first load of people heading back to Bombay and it really felt like someone had died, because suddenly there was so much silence. We still managed, however, to have one final kick-ass evening by getting coal and a fire burning for some barbeque time. Rum and coke with barbeque chicken and Surmai fry... Oh my...
From insane local bus rides with these huge windowless windows to some crazy driving to food, food and more food to driving past Kadri - the only name I had on my lips for 30 years but to which I had no sight off, to Gadbads and Parfaits at Ideals to finally buying macaroons and halwa at Taj Mahal...

I’ve been wanting to cross the Motherland off my Bucket List and I finally did it during the Year End Break - generously gifted by PwC.

P.s: I love you, Mangalore!