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The chutney in the house is a job that has been solely assigned to the husbandman. And for the twelve years that we have been married, he hasn’t disappointed us even once. By us, I mean me, my friends and our respective families. Friends at dinner parties, look forward to his chutneys. I might have slogged on the snacks for hours together, but the chutney (and its maker) in the house steals the show.
If you are the child of the 80s and if you can hum Doordarshan’s signature tune and recall the colours of the montage; if you remember the Ek chidiya song and sing it too (to probably your kids now!); if you can recall the yellow saree of the Maggi mummy and Lalita ji of Surf fame then you most definitely remember the Buland Bharat ki Buland Tasveer. Yes! Hamara Bajaj. Bajaj Chetak, the two-wheeler that was a defining characteristic of our childhood and an imminent part of our teen years. Many of us have fond memories of riding the scooter…
You know what is great about being from a middle-class family – the fact that you learn to reuse resources, thereby becoming a silent yet hugely contributing eco-warrior.
Masala chai…cutting chai… kadak chai…garam chai…chai malaai maar ke! You’re familiar with these sounds, aren’t you? You’ve heard them on childhood train journeys to the nanihaal(maternal grandparents’ home) orescapades to the mountains, saving yourself from sweltering summer heat. They’re the chants of tea sellers or chaiwallahs, emanating from stalls that dot the streets of urban and rural India. This beckoning is a charm, a talisman, bearing witness to our formative years.
