12 December 2020

Only my dad would think of it…

The somewhat good news from India is that dad is in a relatively stable state. But when I tell you that his blood hemoglobin level is 5 (normal 14-17 for men), you get the general picture – that the “goodness” is only relative to what he was going thru last week. But at least, he has been getting up on his bed to read the one book he keeps reading over and over again (Gita) and has also been taking a couple of stabs at recitation.

My brother and I were discussing about his health a couple of days back and somehow the topic went to the new refrigerator Sharmila just jot installed in our kitchen. My brother was surprised that the refrigerators here are connected to water supply. (Back in India, we were and still are used to putting water in the fridge to cool it down or make ice cubes). As I was explaining how we get cold water just by putting the glass in that cubby hole at the door, he started laughing out.

“What happened?”
“Do you remember the dad story at Taj Bengal hotel?”
“Which one?”
“That tap in the bathroom where the water flowed moment you put your hand under it?”
“Oh! Yeah!”

In a flash, I remembered the incident and started guffawing too.

As a background, back in the late 90s, I used to go to India very often for work and on my way out, I used to fly down to Kolkata and stay at the Taj Bengal hotel there. My parents would come down from Durgapur – we would meet for a day and then fly out back to the USA.

There was that one time, when the hotel had upgraded me to a fancy suite. I think we were all sitting around (my brother and sister in law was also there) when we heard dad yelling from the bathroom.

“Ki hollo?”, my brother yelled enquiring what was going on.
“Jol porchhey na”, replied my dad notifying us that the taps were apparently not working.

In a jiffy, I realized what was happening. Quickly went inside the bathroom to see my dad helplessly staring at the tap which had no visible way of being turned. For good reason too. Because it had a sensor and all you had to do was put your hand under the tap – and voila!

“Tap-er nichey haat ta diye dekho”, I encouraged him to put his palm under the tap.
“Jol ta khulbo ki korey?”, he still wanted to know how to start the water.
“Aarey, haathta diye-i dekho na”. I encouraged him to follow my instructions.

You can only imagine what happened after that. He was totally flabbergasted how the tap kept guessing correctly when he had put his hand underneath it and would promptly dispense warm water. He tried the few usual moves to see if it could trick it.

Finally, he was convinced that the tap was fool proof. Then he looked at me and asked “Ei hotel-e emon room aachhey jekhaney kol-er tolaay haath paatle-i, poisa phelbe?”.

So, he wanted to know if the hotel had a room with a tap where if he put his hand underneath it, it would dispense money instead of water!!!

That be truly my dad!!

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12 December 2020

That would be over seven trips around the earth at the equator

Trusted partner for nearly 14 years. Reached the 180,000 miles mark (that would be very close to 300,000 km). This is my second car; the first one lasted 12 years. Here is how old this car is…

1. The manufacturer stopped making this car model 10 years back!!
2. The car has a tape cassette player!
3. It does not have blue tooth to play music.
3. It does not have a USB port either. And the cigarette lighter does not work!
4. It has no rear view camera
5. The GPS maps are so hopelessly outdated, it will take you twice the time to reach any place in Atlanta. Which is fine by me, since the lid to uncover the maps does not open either 🙂

Here is another thing. This car is supposed to be filled with premium (91 minimum) gasoline. Every single gallon of the 10,000 gallons I have fed it has been regular (87). Never had any challenge with the engine.

I think I am going to run this one to the ground too like the first one (1995 Honda Civic).

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10 December 2020

Great family evening… with a new guest!!

Work went a little late and by the time I wrapped up dinner it was nearly 9 PM. The sharp cold in Atlanta has somewhat abated. It was a good day to sit around a fire. Which is what Sharmila and I did.

After some time, we heard a familiar meow. I say familiar because yesterday, we had a cat show up at our door. Natasha had tended to it while I tried to find out from the neighbors if any were short of cat count by one. (None were). The cat would not come indoors. So, Natasha left food, water and a cozy bed in the garage and settled it there. The garage door had to be kept open. Everytime she tried closing it, the cat would dart out.

In a few hours, the cat was gone! This morning, got a call from somebody about a mile away that it is their cat (I had posted a picture in the local bulletin) and that it is not exactly lost. It is an outside cat, does not like to come indoors and will generally hang around for some time and then leave.

Well, that cat was back!! Now, I am not big into cats – in fact, I get an allergy attack (in the eyes mainly) if a cat comes too close to me. But Natasha loves them. Well, a quick call later, all five us settled down by the fire. The cat would not leave Natasha! Interestingly, it came to make friends with the dog. The dog just simply ignored it!! (And they say it is a spaniel and terrier mix! My left foot, it is!).

After about a couple of hours, Natasha went inside. The cat, on a cue, left our property. I waited for the embers to simmer down and then came inside myself.

Nice family evening!

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28 November 2020

She took her hat!

The year was 2015. Sometime in September, as I reckon. I was sitting face to face with the lady who I had not seen for such a long time. A lady who had made so much difference to me when I was growing up. Between her and her husband – Bose-Kaku, I can certainly certify that there has been no other elderly parents who have loved me more other than my own parents.

Two effusive sentiments emanated from her that day thru our tete-e-tete. Her sense of pride in what I had made of myself and her sense of pride in what her son had made of himself. Coming to her son – that would be best friend from school days – Avijit Bose.

Both his and my parents have had their share of ailments thru their old ages. Fortunately for me, my parents have my own brother and sister close by and I go every three months to see them (well, when Covid was not around). But Avijit – thanks to the constraints of the medical profession – does not have the luxury to visit his mom that often. And he is the only child.

In spite of having to deal with all the physical challenges (she could not even go down the stairs to the ground floor – and no, the building had no elevators) – she seemed to be immensely proud and content of being a mother whose son has succeeded in life. Notwithstanding the fact she lost her husband a few years back and is totally dependent on domestic help, her sense of purpose was totally fulfilled by the fact she got to see her son establish himself and have a beautiful family. With an outstanding grandchild, I might add.

I reckon it was Thoreau who had once proferred – “Live your life, do your work, then take your hat”.

The call from Perth, Australia this morning was to let me know that Mrs. Bose had taken her hat.

I was in touch with Avijit in Australia on a daily basis getting updates on his mom – stuck in a nursing home in a small place called Uttarpara near Kolkata. I can only begin to fathom what he must have been going thru – trying to remote control all her care by phone – stuck in Australia. Both of us were warily optimistic of today – this was the day she was supposed to come home. Oxygen cylinder clipped to her nose and all. She was going to need help breathing for the rest of her life. But she would have been home.

That was not to be.

Too many memories are flooding my mind right now. None as overwhelming as her unconditional love for me. A level of guilt has started creeping up too. I go to see my parents every three months. Perhaps I should have made a few detours to see Bose-Kakima a few more times.

And yet I know, if I ever expressed the myriad of feelings I am going thru, she would have reprimanded me – like she used to when I would say two rosogollas were enough when she would insist I eat all the sweets she would offer me when I visited her – that I ought to celebrate her life, not mourn her death.

And what a life to celebrate! From the humblest of beginnings (I happened to get to know her past from her brother and two sisters – of who, only one sister is surviving), she lived to be the most independent person I know. And, to repeat myself, raise a wonderful son.

Bose-Kakima, in our and your son’s country, it is customary to say “Rest in Peace”. If you can still hear me, I say – “Rest in Peace – if you will, but keep an eye from up there on your son and me – you must!”

Amen!

Category: Intersection Points | 2 Comments on She took her hat!