Digging up a root from the past😊

One random promo on my Instagram account set me searching for Indian name of Vetiver. And thus started my trip down the memory lane🙂

Wikipedia says that 'Vetiver' is derived from Tamil word "Vetti veru" which literally translates into a "root that is dug up".

Botanically, Vetiver is a perennial bunchgrass that grows very tall and has roots that grow vertically deep into the soil unlike other grass species which have roots spreading horizontally below the soil. Hence, Vetiver grass is a natural survivor against floods and adverse weather conditions. It is also pest resistant and its roots secrete a fragrant oil that is widely used in perfumery, cosmetics, herbal skincare and Ayurveda.

Being a Mallu the name "Ramacham" used in Kerala also sounded familiar as Ramacham roots are traditionally used in Kerala for health and wellness owing to its cooling property and earthy fragrance.

But it was the Hindi name for Vetiver that caught my attention - KHUS. Something that was always part of my childhood especially during the sizzling summers of Nagpur in Central India where I grew up.

Back in the 70s and early 80s every establishment (residential or commercial) in Central India would need Desert coolers small, medium or large depending on size of the area to be made inhabitable in 40+ degrees centigrade.

 

My home was no exception and in the month of March my father would ensure that the heavy duty fan and water pump  were in perfect working condition, and the top and bottom water storage tanks supported by a metal frame were scrubbed clean and made ready for installation. A new wooden frame would take shape as the side panels and fresh bundles of Khus supported by a network of bamboo strips would find its way into these side panels.

Post Holi celebrations as the temperature outside would soar, our Desert cooler would be in mint condition for blowing fragrant cool air that would fill not only the living room but also the bedroom and dining area once all doors and windows insulated the indoors from the sizzling heat outside. Any person coming home after being roasted in the sun outside, would need to first acclimatize himself in the neutral zone for a few minutes before stepping into the chilled environs inside🙂

 

Entire summer vacations would be filled with the fragrance of Vetiver, though we never knew this English word back then😄.

The Desert cooler doubled up as a refrigerator with its bottom tank full of chilled water serving as chiller tray for bottles of home made Orange Squash and weekend bottles of beer for the man who got the cooler installed🙂

Out on the streets, Khus panels could also be seen adorning the roof tops of Sarkari Ambassador cars making its way on deserted roads, with its tyres leaving a trail on the molten tar with a eerie slurpy sound. Airconditioning of Indian cars was something unheard of in the 70s😊

Lack of affordable airconditioning and more importantly frequent power cuts also ensured that Khus panels were essential part of every Government office during summers of the 70s and 80s.

Every Government office in Central India had a special budget for "Hot Weather Establishment" which covered the expenses incurred towards installation of large Khus panels on the doors and windows and for hiring casual labourers for manually sprinkling water on these panels throughout the day. Probably that was part of last vestiges of the British era.

But it ensured that the government employees could work or rest comfortably within their work place during the harsh summers😊

Be it home or at work, the cool air with hugely refreshing fragrance that Khus or Vetiver delivered was something which words cannot describe. The nearest literal equivalent for the amazing feeling would perhaps be the word "Petrichor" though I personally don't like the word for its pronunciation😅

Nevertheless, the fragrance is so much amazing that Vetiver or Khus is associated with Kannauj  - the Perfume Capital of India since times immemorial. Wikipedia says that Emperor Harshavardhan had imposed a Vetiver tax back in the 6th century CE.

Now all that we get to see are small bottles of Vetiver perfume which can at best be a distant and dwarfed cousin of the humble and earthy Khus panels, which were part of every household  in Central India during hot summers. Those Khus panels locally referred to as "Khus ki taati" not only cooled the air but also generously lent a refreshing fragrance for months together, at a fraction of the cost😊

While desert coolers are still used during summers in Central and North India, the Khus ki taatis have given way to synthetic fibres and the fragrance part is replaced by additives that resemble Khus fragrance.

And Khus as a flavour has found its way into green colored syrups that promise cooling effect of Vetiver though loaded with sugar and preservatives 😉

Meanwhile, for an olfactory driven person like me, this will definitely trigger the search for a perfume that can justify the sheer nostalgia for Khus or Vetiver or Ramacham in all its purity🙂

Guinea Pig

25th July 2022. The day when it was decided between me and my elder sibling Lata, that our mother had enough of being a Guinea Pig at the hands of the Doctors who had put her on life support since 3 days inspite of all her parameters having gone haywire. It was a tough call to decide that she  deserved to leave this world in a more humane manner than lying lifelessly in a hospital bed with all those tubes piercing her throat and hands and her lifeless eyes in a state of constant stare. They made us sign an undertaking for choosing to go against their medical advise.

That was the most defining moment when the significance of the term 'Guinea Pig' dawned upon me.

 

On a more broader perspective, life of an average Home Maker (in the Indian context) is probably a continuous process of being a Guinea Pig. Initially at the hands of her own mother who likes to play around with looks of her child as an infant and a toddler. Later on with the onset of puberty and as an adolescent at the hands of her parents and patronizing elders within the family. Post marriage at the hands of her husband who tries to mould her according to his desires and aspirations. Finally at the hands of her grown up children, as per their earnest desire to bridge the generation gap with their mother and find a friend and confidante in her.

While she may put up some resistance for being a Guinea Pig at the hands of her mother, elders of family and her husband, she rarely does that when it comes to her children and mostly accepts the changes that the children propose, though with some initial hesitation.😊

Talking about the term Guinea Pig, recently I happened to hear the same in a lighter vein, when the Yoga instructor for a  batch of students undergoing Basic Teachers Training, said that upon completion of the course each student will try to preach their mother whatever they learnt about Yoga. While making this observation, the Instructor made a candid confession about having done the same with her mother and in a jocular manner said that our mothers are our trusted Guinea Pigs.

Though the term brought me the unpleasant memory of 25th July, 2022, I couldn't help laughing at the concept of having our mothers as our Guinea Pigs😀.

Reflecting on the term I realised that there was nothing derogatory about usage of the term for someone so precious as our 'Janani' (Life Giver). Because factually every child after having attained some level of maturity starts viewing the Life Giver as someone who couldn't keep up with times, probably because of self neglect in the process of providing the best for her children. And it is this realisation in the grown up child, combined with exposure to newly acquired knowledge about worldly matters, which prompts the child to initiate the process of updating their mother 😊.

While the child tries to perform every possible experiment on the mother with the earnest desire to elevate her quality of life, the mother out of blind trust in her child (being the hallmark of 'Mothers Love') rarely puts up any resistance for being a Guinea Pig at the hands of her children😊

No other person on earth will be a more willing subject for your experiments than your own mother. 

Each one of us would have at some point in time tried to update the existing Version of our mother and surely no mother would have put up any real time resistance for being your Guinea Pig. 

That's what pure love is all about I guess 😊

"Khidkiyaan"

Dedicated to those who grew up in the vastly tech free world of 70s & 80s, and more importantly, dedicated to those from the earlier generation, for whom  community living mattered more than privacy.

"Khidkiyaan" - windows existed then as they do now. Only their size and structures have changed. But more importantly their permeability has undergone a sea change.
Back in the tech free era, the windows used to be dimutive in size but would open out to a whole world of freedom fresh air and social bonding. They would have hardly two panes opening outwardly but would bond a family with its entire neighbourhood. What cooks within was for all those outside to sniff upon. Be it a rustic Aaloo Paalak made on a cold winter night or a frugal daal chaawal during hot summers or a fragrant biryani during Ramzan. People within were never bothered about their voices being heard outside and a curious neighbor would never hesitate to ask - "Kal jhagda ho raha tha Kya?" Or "Aaj kuch special pak raha hain kya?"  In both cases curiosity of the neighbor was not considered as an intrusion into a private space and the neighbor would end up mediating between two warring couples or relishing on some delectable fare dished out from the kitchen. Privacy was an alien concept and sense of community living reigned supreme.
Now the two paned windows that used to be built at a height of about 3 feet from the floor only to end up another 3 feet from the roof, has given way to wall to wall and floor to ceiling panaromic windows through which, in many cases one could see not only the entire neighbourhood but also a big part of city itself. But strangely they have become less pervious, allowing almost nothing to pass through. These open to sky windows open up to acres and acres of privacy, but end up being inhabited by people who keep searching for social bonding on a tiny 6" screen. Mighty price to pay for privacy.

Moorings

Bhai kitne baar jaayega tu Nagpur😊?

Given a choice, i would love to travel to Nagpur every month atleast for a day of two. Atleast till I can manage to do that on my own. And during each such visit i would definitely go atleast once to the place where I grew up from an infant to a young adult. The place where I spent 23 years of my formative life. The place where I spent maximum number of years with my first blood - my raison d etre - my parents and my sibling. The place which gave me the most lasting of friendships which were destined to be and i had no choice in choosing them. The place where I was never judged for what I was born as or for what I had done with my life till then. A place where the only tags attached to me were pet names given by my family and friends.

Every other subsequent place where I spent rest of my life as an adult, have been a place of my choice but still none can measure up to the charm and appeal of the quaint little place where time stands still for me. A place where I can smell and feel my childhood and adolescence.

That's the only place on earth where I can visualise my parents as being fully capable and incharge of their surroundings, and not being dependent on any third person for their own needs, as it had been towards the fag ends of their lives. A place where I saw my father as a hero who as the sole bread earner could handle any situation in his inimitable cool as a cucumber style  and my mother as a home maker who perfected the art of running the household economy in minimum resources and yet not making us aware of the limitations she faced in walking the tight rope. Two very capable persons who ensured that I got the best of what any average child in the neighborhood could get. And the place also gave me the pride of being the younger sibling to a super achiever sister whose accolades (curriculum as well as co-curriculum) were always a source of joy for the entire family. 

These moorings bring me back to the place again and again. And during each such visit I can sense the good old days still hovering around the place as if untouched by time.

To put in a somewhat poetic style - "Meri rooh yaha basti hain"😊

Cup that cheers ☕

My morning is never complete without a cup, sorry, a mug full of tea, made by me, as per my own set standards😊. The tea leaves have to be of a particular make and brand, and has to be brewed as per my prescription. No other tea can measure up to the same standards.

It is not just the taste of tea that matters. Equally important is the fragrance that hits the right notes as the tea is made and the fragrance that one experiences with each sip. One may term that as one of the many quirks that we human beings acquire over a period of time during our existence on this mother earth.

But on a more rational thinking, I find that this addiction for freshly brewed tea emanates from the feel good hormones that get released with the energising fragrance of brewing tea hitting our olfactory system, thereby triggering release of serotonin and dopamine by our nervous system.

Whether in leaf form or CTC dust, mingling of tea with boiling water releases a fragrance that many of us relate with carefree days back from our childhood.

On a personal note, i relate this fragrance with my childhood days when my parents welcomed home any family friend or relative who came calling on us with no specific purpose in mind. Also relates to occasions when I as a child had accompanied my parents to the homes of our relatives or family friends with no specific agenda. 

To put it in simple terms, tea defined moments spent with others in happier times, when person to person interaction were moments to be cherished. And precisely such moments prompt our brains to release all feel good hormones that elevate our minds to a state of bliss, no matter how short lived it was. 

One can perhaps compare the fragrance of freshly brewed tea (or Coffee for Coffee lovers) to similar feel good aromas like fragrance of first rains on parched earth (Petrichor) after a long drawn summer,  or the aroma of coal burning in a sigree on a cold wintery night, or the fragrance of rotis being baked late evenings over a chulha, or the floral fragrances wafting through the air in the still of the night. 

We all have grown up experiencing such amazing fragrances that have released happy hormones within us. 

Probably that is the major cause for our lifelong fascination with such simple yet heavenly aromas.

Cheers to all tea & coffee lovers 😊

Deja Vu

Once in a while we do come across a situation where a total stranger appears like a known person resulting in an instant bond that transcends all norms. Same happened with me during my official tour to Kandla where I met Amit who served me breakfast with a smile on his face. After few rounds of interaction Amit remarked that my face appeared very familiar and that probably he had met me earlier. His observation could have passed on as a standard line for striking a conversation. But strangely I  too felt the same about him and prompted me to ask him whether he had worked/lived in any of the places that I had visited in the past. Strangely neither was he anywhere near my age group nor had he lived or worked in any of the places named by me. It was a strange sense of Deja Vu of having met a person like him in the past. Someone who not only resembled him in physical appearance but also in mannerisms and way of communicating.

The feeling being mutual made us communicate more during my breakfast sessions during the weeklong stay in the hotel and by then he came to know that I was almost twice as old as him and he started looking forward to me for few words of wisdom based on life experiences. On the last day Amit asked me a very poignant question. While I struggled to provide him with a plausible answer, it made me ponder over the weekend over the depth of his question.

Amit wanted to know why a woman finds it so difficult to adjust with her in-laws? He wanted to know what any husband could do for resolving the issue.

On the face of it his question appeared to be no brainer and I began answering him with the standard quote that it's Kahaani Ghar Ghar ki and was an ailment with no cure. But gradually the topic veered towards the aspect of how different women are from men, physically, mentally and emotionally. According to me the biggest reason for marital disputes is the inherent sense of mothering/caring that an average woman is born with. And this continues with her all through her life and manifests in the urge to control the men around her, be it her brother and father during her childhood, her male friends during her adolescence and her husband and her son post marriage. All is well and hunky Dory as long as there is only one woman around a man showering her motherly affection. Problem arises the moment another woman is there in the arena. And it's always the man who is split between his mother and his wife or between his sister and his mother or between his wife and his daughter. Men too add fuel to the fire by unwittingly taking sides resulting in the other woman getting ensnared in a sense of insecurity bringing out her darker shade. Darker shade of a woman invariably results in the man being fed with negativity about the other woman in question, which mostly happens to be either his own mother, his wife or his daughter. It may sound very misogynistic, but very rarely we come across a woman who inspite of being hugely insecure  can handle such situations maturely.

The only word of advice that I could offer Amit was that a man should always try to ensure that the women around him never feel insecure because of his behaviour. According to me, for any man the biggest problem in life is to live with a woman having a sense of insecurity. And unfortunately very few men have been fortunate enough to have mastered this rare art.😊

Proud Voters

Just as the indelible mark is slowly fading away, the Candidates for whom Proud Voters voted, will also disappear soon only to come back knocking at your doors with folded hands after 5 years😊 

Meanwhile, an average voter will be back to deal with encroached footpaths, pot holed and uneven roads, mad rat race in the field of education and job sector, soaring utility bills and  organised loot by the health sector. 

Whereas, the elected netas will once again get insulated from all such travails and resume their cushy lifestyle busy exploring opportunities for adding more crores into their net worth before next elections. 

No wonder they are so addicted to their profession and want someone within  the family to continue their win win legacy, as the voters keep wondering all their lives "Saala aisi kaunsi galati kar di life mein ki is tarah ki zindagi guzaar raha hu"😅