Hmmm. Yessss. A wry smile. Really? That must be tough…Ohhhhh.
I had reached the stage of Maun Vrata (Yes I could do it finally!) at a
dinner table the other evening. The members of the conference were my Uncle and
Aunt, my tennis champ cousin Natasha and my darling husband. The conversations
revolved around Cricket, Tennis, Golf, Long distance runs, cycling…who beat
who, some historical figures, excitement in stadiums……
I was full. The words were buzzing around me as I maintained my
composure. I wasn’t bored. After all I
am married to Mr.Sports Charming and a Sports fanatic family. The man is not
All watch and no play. He is a man of many Sporting actions.
As far as I am concerned, I do not come anywhere close to the word ‘S’
unless it’s the ‘S’ which spells out be a ‘SALE’.
Infact, my family members will tell you that I carried the title of
‘Bhatukali Samrat’.
It was christened by my mum. The newest kitchen sets in the town were my
pride. The cutest tiny pav bhaji plate was in my possession. The porcelain tea
wares were neatly kept. Whilst in Pune, a visit to ‘Tulsi Baug’ was on my
highest agenda. (*Tulsi Baug market sells goods including traditional
Maharashtrian cooking items, cosmetics, jewelry and household goods, as well as
Pooja items-
Wikipedia :D). So if my best friend on her Pune visit had grabbed that fancy
misalnacha dabba (masala box) , I had to ensure that I bought the copper vessel
for my ‘Bhatukali’ set. I used to drag my dear cousin brother along too.
Hours were spent together
arranging and rearranging stuff. Enacting mum and dad was fun. Cooking with
weird things was even more imaginative. Leaves, soda bottle caps, peanuts,
biscuits, choclates, paper punch holes and loads of garbage. The role play
varied every time too …. Doctor, Teacher, Shop, Camping (That was a
ruckus….grabbing every umbrella, bed sheet, pillow in the house). Even
co-operative building society meetings (yeah we did that…carried lots of food)
I was equally fanatic about
dolls. You name it, I had it. (Do I sound like a spoilt kid? :D) The crawling
baby, the bald dolls with plastic limbs and stuffed cotton bodies.(A loving uncle and aunt in Dubai always ensured this
supply) My dad too contributed from his trips abroad.
The best Birthday gift was a One
feet ‘Talking and Walking’ doll on my fourth birthday. (I have pictures with
it). It sang Twinkle Little Star, Baa Baa Black sheep( My cousins still annoy
me with a song called ‘ Aai mala Paisa de, Baba mala Paisa de) It was an object
of curiosity for my entire family and source of experiment for my budding
engineering cousin. He opened to see how it operated and eventually made it
‘langadi’.
We even had a ‘Barbie’ and ‘Ken’
wedding attended by all girls in my building.
I was hooked to Bhatukali. I had
earned that title. By the age of 7-8, my parents were worried. So, they wished
and prayed that my younger sibling was not a girly one. Their prayers were
certainly answered. Sana had kicked away two blankets covering her as a
new-born. Now, she beats boys in her class.
The lack of interest in Sports
was not entirely my fault. My father doesn’t follow any sport either. He thinks
watching cricket whole day is a waste of time. Period. The only sport he has
played is business. I understand that sport better as well. Although Mum loved
watching a match occasionally, is still a person who loves business and reading.
My cousin sisters spend hours
together watching a match, cry, fight, squabble over scores. My grandfather
aged 95 (a fast bowler in his days) stays awake to check the ‘score’ even
enjoys a football match and asks to call for a pizza. Not me. Me and my dad
just make faces and yell (you need a background score, don’t you?) and enjoy
the food while watching world cup matches with entire family.
At a point in time, I wanted to
be a gymnast even skating interested me but the logistics were so difficult.
The class started at Samartha Vyam mandir at Shivaji park around 5.30 p.m. and
I reached home in the long ride school bus at 6.00 p.m. Mum was working and it
wasn’t easy commuting from prabhadevi to dadar again. My school was worse. It
did not have a play ground. The only thing available for junior classes was
‘P.T.’ (Need I say more?) I was not enrolled for swimming as my dad thought it
will ‘Tan’ my skin too badly and also there was a tragic death of my cousin in
a swimming pool. I did not go for it in
the High School because the School swimming champ and my crush camped at
Mahatma Gandhi pool. I did not want it to make it obvious. (That is another
reason, I did not take ‘Entire Sanskrit
in 8th grade)
Aso. My mum was worried with my Bhatukali as
later it progressed to unsupervised experiments in the kitchen by age 11-12.
She also thought, it was the age I should quit it. ‘ Pudhe jaun te karachya’.
My sister was a Car and guns
fanatic. Her other past time was to soil my soft toys, pulling away my dolls
heads or limbs. My aunt had got her a ‘
one storeyed House’ from abroad. I had arranged it for her. She threw away the
small parts from the 11th floor. Next thing I knew she was jumping
on it to check if it bounced.
Eventually, I grew out of
Bhatukali. Maybe the pressure of academics and music lessons got in its way. Maybe
I was plain bored. Or perhaps my mother threw all my toys away.The number of
children playing on the building society ground lessened too. I never looked
back anyways. Every vacation post tenth grade was spent working with Daddy and
later even at odd company secretarial firms. Weekends were spent studying as
well I was doing double courses till almost two years ago. I was a workaholic. Career
was always important. Stepping in the kitchen was never a question. Mum ensured
my daily dabba.
My mum grew tired of my
non-contribution at the kitchen front. I hated it. I couldn’t cook to save my
life. It was a shame considering my mum is a very creative and imaginative
gourmet cook. People call her for her recipes and remember the wonderful dishes
she cooks. There were firecrackers in the kitchen when both of us were around.
After my marriage was fixed, the
pressure of ‘Atta tari kuthetari haat laav’ intensified. I had declared that I
am hopeless cook. Aditya wasn’t bothered but his only condition was that I
learn fish curry from his mother in law. As far as my mum-in-law is concerned,
she was cool as a Menthol filled candy.
She confided that being a
National level Hockey player, she wasn’t much into cooking before her wedding
either. My confidence boosted, I flashed my Colgate smile. (I mean how do you
impress your mother in law? You don’t play sports, you don’t cook)
I am currently trying to follow football (its
fast and exciting) and I want to watch a match in a stadium. (there is so much of energy) I annoy
my husband and ask silly questions between formula-1 matches. I have plans to
watch the Wimbeldon too. (Yeah, I stay around) But I still don’t have the
patience to watch a cricket match for an entire day!! Its afterall staged !
Mr.Sports charming teases me often over this.
Aso.I made a trip to Tulsi baug
after ages before leaving for London…..for playing the ‘Kahari khari
Bhatukali’. Two months in London and I
can whip many a decent meals. Like, sports charming said last night, Who says
you cant cook? This is awesome :D.
He awaits the day when I watch a
cricket match in a stadium!!!!! (I recently refused Oval tickets)
Pssst: You are asking me the
secret of my Petite figure? I dance you dummies :D :P :P
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