29 October 2017

Radhachura

[Edit: I got the name wrong. These are Krishnachura. The yellow ones are Radhachura]

Drove to my in laws’ place in Durgapur yesterday and spent an hour with them. Most of the discussions there were around physical ailments and doctors and medicines. Decided I was eminently too young to be involved in those discussions 🙂 Letting my brother hold fort with them, I ventured out in their garden (my father in law has great green thumbs) to see if I could take some pictures of flowers with my iPhone.

This one, I believe is a Radhachura. Not sure of the English name. We grew up in Durgapur with this flower and its close relative Krishnachura (which was entirely yellow in color).

Anybody knows the English names?

28 October 2017

The mix master!!

Mathew Lepcha from ITC Sonar in Kolkata is undoubtedly one of my most favorite mixologist. Will definitely feature in my Top 3. Anytime I am near Kolkata, I have to drop by at his bar to pick up a few more lessons in organic chemistry.

Today, I learnt a new trick of making some very interesting looking cocktails that includes baloons, isopropyl alchohol, syringe and dry ice!!! We exchanged a lot of notes today about cocktails.

In the end, he made a special drink for me and I had to guess the ingredients – I got 2 out of 4 right. The base of green cocounut water and the rose essence – although I missed the lack of pink color and went with rose syrup. I could not decide between rum or vodka – it weas rum – I am a gin guy and not a rum guy – and I could not name the khus. Khus is not something I use much in my drinks. I liked it. Especially for the hot Atlanta summers, it would be a good substitute for mints.

Very few people are as knowledgeable and as passionate about mixology as Mathew is. The guy is an absolutely delightful person to know. If you like cocktails, he is totally the guy you have to know!!!

28 October 2017

“You will get a cigarette” !!!

Circa: Jan, 1977.
I had just walked into a new school in my fifth grade. I knew nobody in my class. I had gone and sat down in class 5B – that is where my name had showed up in the long list in front of the headmaster’s room.

Soon, our home room teacher (class teacher) walked in. She seemed jovial and strict at the same time. I was just a scaredy cat. Everything was new – new school, new building, new uniform, new faces, new teacher…

Knew nothing!!

As the teacher settled down after our rather disunited “Good morning, miss”, one of the first question she asked was “Who is the first boy?”. Well, I was a “first boy” but from a different school. So, that did not count. Shounak raised his hand.

“Well, you will be the class monitor. You will report to me any misbehavior in our class and I will give that student a cigarette”.

The new school, new building, new uniform, new faces, new teacher was scary enough. I did not need a teacher giving out cigarettes. And what kind of school did my dad get me in to? Why would the teacher give a cigarette? And how is that even a penalty?

Much later I learnt that all of us were to get a “conduct” report card every other week that we had to get our parents to sign off on. And if we did not behave, we would be awarded a “C-grade”. Apparently, not a “cigarette”!!

That teacher was Miss Lakshmi Dutta. She was our math teacher in fifth grade. She taught chemistry when we were in higher grades. And then she left the school. In 1979!!

About four decades later, this year, I had discovered that she lived very close to my brother. My previous attempt to meet her was futile since she was unwell. I almost had the same bad luck this time. Today, she was unwell too and the only reason we did not have a longer meeting is that she had to go to the doctor. But we did meet! After almost four decades!!

You would think that by now, I should be used to meeting my home room teachers after decades. Nothing could be further from the truth. Meeting Miss Dutta was as exhilarating as it could be.

Anybody who was her teacher would probably remember her for a few things – she giving a lot of students some unique names – “Kaan Khaara”, “Morobba” (for most of them those names have stuck for a life time) – and those trips to the chemistry lab where she would make the fire in the bunsen burner turn into different colors …

Today, I got to know about her original birthplace, her life journey, her granddad, her dad, her own schooling, her siblings, her selfless support for her dad and mom during their last years in life…

This meeting was no less humbling than that first day I had met her in 1977!! I hope to see her a few more times since she is so close to where my brother lives…

28 October 2017

Reflections…

Watching how dependent my dad’s fragile health is on my mom’s efforts and attention… how my mom’s timely actions is the difference between his ability to breathe or not, spend endless hours in his own soiled clothes or clean ones, be able to sit up or just lay there…

… I am moved to a very emotional yet sobering conclusion …

… I better be nice to Sharmila from now on 🙂 🙂

27 October 2017

A few birds with one stone

After keeping all of us awake thru the night, dad finally settled down and went off to sleep around 6 in the morning.

That left me with an window of opportunity to get a few things done. I needed to check on a few folks and also finish off my run. Needed 6 more miles to get to the 100 mile mark for the month.

So, basically I kept running in the streets of Kalyani going from one house to the other. The icing on the cake was when I went to check on a gentleman who I had fortuitously met a year back and lately has been fighting back cancer, I ran into his son and daughter in law there too! They would be none other than our own Partha and Sreyashi – erstwhile denizens of Atlanta who live in St. Louis now.

I even got their two year old daughter to come out for a walk in the streets with the promise of the one incredible allure Indian streets have for all two year kid visiting from USA – street dogs!!!

26 October 2017

Rolling thru the streets…

As I mentioned in the last post, yesterday was a good day. He had asked for the first time to be taken out in his wheelchair. Normally, I have to coax him to agree to it.

We spent about an hour thru the streets of Kalyani in the evening hours. Because he was more alert, he and I spent a long time talking about small things and me trying to ask him questions about the past and see if his neurons, dendrons and synapses can start re-firing (or whatever it is that they do for a normal person). Surprisingly, he could recollect the addresses of all the residences we had lived in (each took about a couple of minutes and you could almost sense his brain cells churning thru). But he still cannot remember my brother’s house in Kolkata.

Numerous times, we had people go past us (mostly in bicycles) and then on second thoughts, they would stop. Invariably, it was somebody who realized it was my dad as they went past us and got down from their bikes to come back and talk to us. Many of them were not aware of what dad has gone thru. My dad explained “Porey gechhilam” (“I had fallen down”).

That gave me a chance during my one on one time to explain to him that he had a brain stroke. We found five different spots. And that is why he fell down. And why he is not being able to remember things.

He seemed to be very surprised at this revelation.
“I had a brain stroke?”
“Yes”.

A couple of minutes of silence later…
“Which hospital was I in?”
“2 nights in Kalyani nursing home and then 2 weeks in Peerless Hospital in Kolkata”
“I was in Kolkata?”
“Yes”
“How did I get there?”
“Pinku brought an ambulance from Kolkata” (Pinku is my younger brother)

A few minutes of silence again.
“Eto shoto hoye gechhey aami jaantam na” (I did not realize so much has happened)
“I know”

A minute later, I realized he was trying to raise his neck and look back towards me. Sensing he wanted to ask me something, I lowered my head as I kept pushing him along. Fully expecting the next question “Kobey bhalo hobo baba?” (When will I get better?)

Instead he said “Tor onek poisa khoroch korey fellam na?” Not sure whether I was more irritated or found it to be too funny or something else that at this juncture, he first reaction would be to be apologetic that his illness cost his son a lot of money. But I knew that was the clear marker, the “old” him was trying to come thru and that was a great thing.

I lied thru my teeth. “Insurance is giving all the money back”.

For half a minute he shook his head very satisfactorily.

The evening, much like the wheelchair, rolled on…

26 October 2017

Yesterday was a good day

Dad continues to have some good days and some bad days. Last night was just terrible for him. He kept both mom and me awake with his discomfort. The trick, we have realized, is how much sleep he is able to get. We have not been able to narrow down yet how to get him to sleep (including prescribed medicines).

But before last night, the whole day was a great day. In fact, the best day, in my trip so far. When he woke up at 1PM after a marathon 14 hour sleep, his brain was very active. Surprisingly, he could remember things he had forgotten and could speak coherently more words than normal before petering off into a drawl.

You know how we knew he was in good spirits? The three tell-tale signs were:

(*) He has started worrying about costs!! “How much money did we have to spend?”, “How much insurance will give back?”, you know the typical questions that used to consume him during normal times 🙂

(*) He started cracking jokes!! Somehow, thru this illness, he is obsessed with my shaved head – “Why do you shave your head?”, “Do you do it yourself?” and all that. Yesterday he kept telling the attendants “Matha aachhey chool thaakbey na?” and then followed up with a humorous analogy “Pa aachey aangul thaakbey na?”. (His point being if you have a head, you will have to have hair just like if you have a leg, you are going to have toes!) Go figure!!

(*) He wanted to go our for a stroll in the evening in his wheelchair!! Last few times, I had to coax and cojole him to get out of home. Yesterday, he asked for it!!

We will take as many of these days as we can possibly grab…