Hasn't got the same zing as London Fog. But it was as deadly (I am sure).
I was looking forward to Puri and the warm climes . And it was. Not hot but comfortably warm. Day 1 Puri, Day 2 Berhampore boarding train to Kolkata on the same day. Work at Puri went well. Left sharp at 5.30 for Berhampore. And straight into a thick fog. The four hour drive between Puri and Ganjam took 6. Often the white stripe of the divider was the only clue forward. Fog in Puri? (Maybe).
Given my punishing schedule, I was looking forward to a delayed arrival in Kolkata due to fog. I sleep rather well in trains. Rang ma to tell her so and expect me around 7 am-ish. Boarded the Chennai Howrah Mail and post dinner was fast asleep. And within minutes or so it seems, there was the chap in charge of beddings waking us up, shouting Howrah, Howrah at the top of his voice. I looked around. No one budged. Some simply turned sideways and snuggled deeper into the berth!
What a bore. We arrive bang on time - at 4am. No fog? Haven't the fogiest idea.
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Saraswati Puja post - belatedly
Saraswati Puja. And hurrah - I actually got a day off. No field visits, no on-going training session. That meant adda at a friend's. It was a particularly cold day and yet the roads were lined with jubak and jubotis resplendent (shiveringly so) in sarees and kurtas. Braving the cold. Oh yes. Saraswati puja is valentines day for the bengali school and college going youth, much before valentines day itself became fashionable. Same in Assam, my assamese colleague confirmed!
My schooling was not in Bengal and so we (children of expats) didn't know about that. Ofcourse some of the the tradition followed us to expat lands. Dont eat kool before saraswati puja. Which struck me as odd. What is "before saraswati puja?". And keeping your school books, pen, pencil at the altar and getting them blessed! Ofcourse we never had saraswati puja at home. But we did go over to other friend's home - once or maybe twice. And briefly in Q8 where a few families had a puja to which they didnt invite us - as if not wanting to share out the goddess' blessings. They chose to inform us after the puja was over. Hmmm...maybe that could be the reason for my less than brilliant academic career?!
I reached my KD's place to find a puja in full swing in his building complex. So it was good adda and great bhog from the puja downstairs - khichudi, labra, tomato chutney, aloo bhaja, payesh and rassogolla. And the garnish? 6 pieces (2 apeice) of deep fried yummy ilish mach from KD's fridge!
K the other friend and I dug in. KD the host however took only one piece and insisted I take another. At first I thought he was being host-ly and resisted (ever so briefly). But greed won and I had a third piece. Ah! Soon, we crept away bellies full of khichudi and ilish mach...to our respective homes and crawled under our respective leps. I felt slightly guilty (about the non veg gluttony). But hey, no more academics for me to worry about. So illish was not only OK. It was great.
Later on KD's wife told me that he felt guilty as he suddenly remembered his daughter's imminent exams and stopped at one! Lucky me, then?
PS - Immediately, within a day or two, I had an auto accident. And then I went to Assam and returned with a severe respiratory tract infection which I took to be the Duck's revenge. Was it?? I wonder.
My schooling was not in Bengal and so we (children of expats) didn't know about that. Ofcourse some of the the tradition followed us to expat lands. Dont eat kool before saraswati puja. Which struck me as odd. What is "before saraswati puja?". And keeping your school books, pen, pencil at the altar and getting them blessed! Ofcourse we never had saraswati puja at home. But we did go over to other friend's home - once or maybe twice. And briefly in Q8 where a few families had a puja to which they didnt invite us - as if not wanting to share out the goddess' blessings. They chose to inform us after the puja was over. Hmmm...maybe that could be the reason for my less than brilliant academic career?!
I reached my KD's place to find a puja in full swing in his building complex. So it was good adda and great bhog from the puja downstairs - khichudi, labra, tomato chutney, aloo bhaja, payesh and rassogolla. And the garnish? 6 pieces (2 apeice) of deep fried yummy ilish mach from KD's fridge!
K the other friend and I dug in. KD the host however took only one piece and insisted I take another. At first I thought he was being host-ly and resisted (ever so briefly). But greed won and I had a third piece. Ah! Soon, we crept away bellies full of khichudi and ilish mach...to our respective homes and crawled under our respective leps. I felt slightly guilty (about the non veg gluttony). But hey, no more academics for me to worry about. So illish was not only OK. It was great.
Later on KD's wife told me that he felt guilty as he suddenly remembered his daughter's imminent exams and stopped at one! Lucky me, then?
PS - Immediately, within a day or two, I had an auto accident. And then I went to Assam and returned with a severe respiratory tract infection which I took to be the Duck's revenge. Was it?? I wonder.
Monday, February 01, 2010
The Duck's revenge
On our way back from a field trip to Morigaon district, we made a small stop at the Morigaon haat where my colleague bought a "Pati haan" or Haans as in Bengali, duck in English. It was just before Bihu and he thought he'd get a good price here compared to Guwahati. He was back in 10 minutes, a duck in a white bag which he tied securely and put on the floor next to the driver.
The bag moved as the duck squirmed inside, giving me anxious moments. What if it got out of the bag, flapping its wings and obscuring the driver's vision and pecking furiously and all of us - car and duck in the ditch?
That did not happen. The duck soon settled down, resigned to its fate and was quite silent through our long drive back to guwahati, tea break at chandrapur, visit to Guwahati university and coffee break. When my colleague got dropped off at his home, with the duck, I almost felt a kinship with it, feeling guilty about my erst-while drooling over visions of roast duck.
Two days later, my last day in Guwahati, we went to Bezera in Kamrup district for a field trip. This took better part of the day. We stopped at "Kake da Dhaba" run by locals but the Kaka at the till for a very late lunch! My colleague took out a tiffin box carrier the duck curry he had made. We ate heartily. Only the driver was reluctant. Why, I asked? Because old ailments resurface if you take duck meat.
Really?? Old wives tales, I thought, mentally. I paid scant attention, busy as I was stuffing myself and wondering if I'd make the flight (all kinshop forgotten).
Back in Kolkata, I was feverish. Next day I could not goto office. I suffered from the most agonizing pain in my jaws thanks to which I was on a liquid diet for nearly a week. Severe Upper respiratory tract infection. I thought I had won the last bout of respiratory infections, in November. The Duck's revenge was complete.
There I was jaws aching, nose, throat sore, constant coughing and head spinning from the barrage of useless information on what I should have done and worn back in Assam so that I would have been right as rain, now and not severely ill.
I was too weak to protest - It was not the incorrect clothing or the dust or even the cold. It was the Duck.
The bag moved as the duck squirmed inside, giving me anxious moments. What if it got out of the bag, flapping its wings and obscuring the driver's vision and pecking furiously and all of us - car and duck in the ditch?
That did not happen. The duck soon settled down, resigned to its fate and was quite silent through our long drive back to guwahati, tea break at chandrapur, visit to Guwahati university and coffee break. When my colleague got dropped off at his home, with the duck, I almost felt a kinship with it, feeling guilty about my erst-while drooling over visions of roast duck.
Two days later, my last day in Guwahati, we went to Bezera in Kamrup district for a field trip. This took better part of the day. We stopped at "Kake da Dhaba" run by locals but the Kaka at the till for a very late lunch! My colleague took out a tiffin box carrier the duck curry he had made. We ate heartily. Only the driver was reluctant. Why, I asked? Because old ailments resurface if you take duck meat.
Really?? Old wives tales, I thought, mentally. I paid scant attention, busy as I was stuffing myself and wondering if I'd make the flight (all kinshop forgotten).
Back in Kolkata, I was feverish. Next day I could not goto office. I suffered from the most agonizing pain in my jaws thanks to which I was on a liquid diet for nearly a week. Severe Upper respiratory tract infection. I thought I had won the last bout of respiratory infections, in November. The Duck's revenge was complete.
There I was jaws aching, nose, throat sore, constant coughing and head spinning from the barrage of useless information on what I should have done and worn back in Assam so that I would have been right as rain, now and not severely ill.
I was too weak to protest - It was not the incorrect clothing or the dust or even the cold. It was the Duck.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Tram that auto!
We were getting tired of waiting for the elusive W-3. Shall we take the tram? Yes. Why not?
So there I was on a tram after, 20 years! My last tram ride was in '89, that is 1989. But for the fact that this is 2010, I would indeed have thought I was back in 1989. The tram, exterior and interior were unchanged. That included the conductor. The only difference was the price. The fare to Behala was Rs. 4. Expensive compared to 50 paise for first class and 40p for the second, I told N, sounding like you know like one's parents / grandparent or atleast one person per family who ate a rossogolla for one anna / walked several kilometers to school / and had a grand parent who could eat an entire goat. Hmpf.
The ride was tranquil. No hurry, no rush. The tram stopped for ages while people got off or on after chatting with the conductors about the wisdom of doing so at each stop! (Unlike buses which don't stop...slow down fractionally and that too in the middle of the road). No one complained at the slow gait (unlike the smart alecs in slow moving buses). Why didnt we take the tram earlier? It might be stately and slow, but it never gets stuck in the endless jams? We should. We will, we decide.
And if it hadn't happened for that insane auto driver who, speeding on a near empty wintry night, got a wheel onto the tram track and the auto simply toppled over. Did I mention, I was in it, concentraing on wrapping my shawl around me tightly as the chilly wind sliced through me (yes, yes I am talking about Kolkata and not Siberia - its cold in a window / door less auto) when I realised that this auto is toppling over. It might sound mundane written so. It was horrific then. However, the horror was shortlived. I emerged with only a few minor scratches and a good deal of jarring. Within minutes, people came up, straightened the auto, pulled us out, helped us across the road and on to a seat at a roadside stall. Some one even thrust a tea cup in my hand (and no, this person didnt ask me for any money), enquired if I was hurt. And did I mention, that my things were all over the road. Some one collected everything and handed them over to me.
So, I don't take the autos anymore. I have rediscovered trams. And ofcourse, I rediscovered my love for my fellow Kolkatans.
So there I was on a tram after, 20 years! My last tram ride was in '89, that is 1989. But for the fact that this is 2010, I would indeed have thought I was back in 1989. The tram, exterior and interior were unchanged. That included the conductor. The only difference was the price. The fare to Behala was Rs. 4. Expensive compared to 50 paise for first class and 40p for the second, I told N, sounding like you know like one's parents / grandparent or atleast one person per family who ate a rossogolla for one anna / walked several kilometers to school / and had a grand parent who could eat an entire goat. Hmpf.
The ride was tranquil. No hurry, no rush. The tram stopped for ages while people got off or on after chatting with the conductors about the wisdom of doing so at each stop! (Unlike buses which don't stop...slow down fractionally and that too in the middle of the road). No one complained at the slow gait (unlike the smart alecs in slow moving buses). Why didnt we take the tram earlier? It might be stately and slow, but it never gets stuck in the endless jams? We should. We will, we decide.
And if it hadn't happened for that insane auto driver who, speeding on a near empty wintry night, got a wheel onto the tram track and the auto simply toppled over. Did I mention, I was in it, concentraing on wrapping my shawl around me tightly as the chilly wind sliced through me (yes, yes I am talking about Kolkata and not Siberia - its cold in a window / door less auto) when I realised that this auto is toppling over. It might sound mundane written so. It was horrific then. However, the horror was shortlived. I emerged with only a few minor scratches and a good deal of jarring. Within minutes, people came up, straightened the auto, pulled us out, helped us across the road and on to a seat at a roadside stall. Some one even thrust a tea cup in my hand (and no, this person didnt ask me for any money), enquired if I was hurt. And did I mention, that my things were all over the road. Some one collected everything and handed them over to me.
So, I don't take the autos anymore. I have rediscovered trams. And ofcourse, I rediscovered my love for my fellow Kolkatans.
Monday, January 18, 2010
One vote equals one child's education
Help GiveIndia win US$ 1 million in Facebook’s Chase Community Giving event. Vote Today!
The winner will be the NGO that gets the highest number of votes from Facebook users. The prize of $1 million will help put or keep 40,000 children across India in school for one year.
Voting is open only from Friday, January 15 – Friday, January 22, 2010.
Voting link and details here
Email giveindiachase@gmail.com for queries if any.
The winner will be the NGO that gets the highest number of votes from Facebook users. The prize of $1 million will help put or keep 40,000 children across India in school for one year.
Voting is open only from Friday, January 15 – Friday, January 22, 2010.
Voting link and details here
Email giveindiachase@gmail.com for queries if any.
Thursday, December 31, 2009
My Last Post of this decade
Nothing much to say except this mad urge to write in a last post of 2009. From tomorrow, a new year, a new decade.
Yes. A new decade indeed begins tomorrow since the decades are labelled 60's, 70's etc. Um...so what do we call the 2010-19? The 10's? Doesn't sound right. Although Discoblog's logic as to why a decade ends tonight and a new one starts tomorrow does.
Goodbye 2009. Welcome 2010.
Happy New Year!
Yes. A new decade indeed begins tomorrow since the decades are labelled 60's, 70's etc. Um...so what do we call the 2010-19? The 10's? Doesn't sound right. Although Discoblog's logic as to why a decade ends tonight and a new one starts tomorrow does.
Goodbye 2009. Welcome 2010.
Happy New Year!
Monday, December 28, 2009
Time unravels all - Sanchi, Vidisha & Udaigiri
I had half a day off in Bhopal and debated - Sanchi or Bhimbetka? Sanchi won. Bhimbetka is for another trip, MP being a project state, I have to visit Bhopal frequently. And so Surendra, the driver from MP tourism and I went to Sanchi-Vidisha-Udaigiri.
First stop Sanchi. Chilly but not freezing. Green and beautiful. I made it. Afterall! The great Stupa, the four gateways. Ashoka the Great. 3rd century BC. Devi, Anuradha, Mahendra; Sungas; Here was an Ashoka Pillar with bits of the original smooth chunar sandstone still intact still carrying the famous edict of Ashoka warning against schism in the Buddhist community. (I can't ofcourse read it). The shaft of the pillar intact. The middle broken into two lying under a covered dias and the four lion heads in the archeological musuem, next door. Thanks to a blogger - I forget who - since I had read up so many before the trip - said not to miss the archeological survey of India Museum. Beautifully and painstakingly restored - a photographic record of the restoration is in the museum, Sanchi is a pleasant visit. And ofcourse the curious serenity I find around Buddhist places of worship or temples is here as well.
Outside in the parking were bored drivers, guides jostling each other to grab a foreign tourist party, vendors - wondering no doubt, what could be of so much interest that one thinks nothing of spending huge amounts to travel to Sanchi from great distances, on taxis, on guidebooks, on cameras, on guides and yet haggle about parking fees (I did), shoo away beggars.
Bija Mandal jayengi? Surendra sounded incredibly bored. Aapko pata hai naa, I ask? Haan, Vidisha main, he says. So, onto Vidisha which was once a super prosperous town, mentioned in Kalidasa's Meghdoot. Home town of Devi, Ashoka the great's wife. Really? Impossibly narrow, dirty crowded little town, could be anywhere in India. Garbage demarcating lanes, cross roads. Cows, pigs, dogs. And the seemingly random use of colours - green door here, yellow window there, a woman in a bright pink sari - colours foreigners would find eye catching and dutifully photograph. We went round and round while the roads became narrower and crowded. Finally, even my enthusiasm palled. Chalo. Surendra's relief was short lived. To Heliodorus' pillar, I said.
The pillar, standing sentinel from so long ago, now, in the middle of absolutely no where. No one around. A stray dog and me (embarrassingly touristy in jeans, windcheater, camera, mineral water bottle now containing local tap water filled at my hotel in Bhopal and guide book). The pillar stands in a fenced area with trees. There is a board of the archeological society of India. Surendra must have wondered at my choice of place. And might he be right? A pillar. Except that there is a thrill to think what it might have been around 110 BCE when a Greek ambassador of the Indo-Greek king Antialcidas to the court of the Sunga king Bhagabhadra had it erected. According to some records, he had converted to hinduism (?) since it was dedicated to Vishnu. Having seen the pillars which took about 2-3 minutes, there was well, nothing much to do. And yet, having come here all the way, I could hardly make a hasty exit, could I? So I loitered around for another 5 minutes or so, frequently consulting the MP Tourism brochure before leaving for the last stop (while Surendra kept in turns looking at the pillar and at me, in puzzled amazement).
Udaigiri. Ancient rock cut temples on a dark hill from the Gupta period. The lone caretaker was quite happy to see me, the lone tourist and showed me around. No signs / tablets or whatever they are called - detailing history and information would have been helpful. The climb was painful. The descent excruciating. Thankgod for Surendra. He helped me down, step by painful and vertigo inducing step. Did he wonder what the hell was I doing there? He must have.
There were the obligatory "Sonu loves Pinky" graffitti in hard to reach places. God. Why do people deface these places so? And how do they reach those places and carve out these messages?Panting, gasping (me) and relieved Surendra left Udaigiri for our return back to Bhopal. Just a while back, in Sanchi, what a thrill it was to see slabs inscribed in pali / parakrit? Or was it just plain graffitti? Should I then be so upset with "Sonu love Pinky" modern variety. Who knows? A couple of millenia later, will a future archeological society be constructing guard rails and guided tours on "Sonu Loves Pinky"?! Maybe?!
As I made my way back to Bhopal, I think I got my answer as to who won. Not Sanchi, nor Bhimbetka. But Time - that mighty leveller. Man might make short term gains like in Sanchi but sooner or later, will have to bow done to time!
I found neat info on Sanchi here.
PS - The cam I took from my colleague was out of memory and I couldn't figure out how to erase all the old pictures. I could take only 4. Can you imagine my angst at deciding which 4 to take? And anyhow, am still waiting for my colleague to mail me those pix. In the meanwile, some neat Sanchi pix at Aaravind GJ's.
First stop Sanchi. Chilly but not freezing. Green and beautiful. I made it. Afterall! The great Stupa, the four gateways. Ashoka the Great. 3rd century BC. Devi, Anuradha, Mahendra; Sungas; Here was an Ashoka Pillar with bits of the original smooth chunar sandstone still intact still carrying the famous edict of Ashoka warning against schism in the Buddhist community. (I can't ofcourse read it). The shaft of the pillar intact. The middle broken into two lying under a covered dias and the four lion heads in the archeological musuem, next door. Thanks to a blogger - I forget who - since I had read up so many before the trip - said not to miss the archeological survey of India Museum. Beautifully and painstakingly restored - a photographic record of the restoration is in the museum, Sanchi is a pleasant visit. And ofcourse the curious serenity I find around Buddhist places of worship or temples is here as well.
Outside in the parking were bored drivers, guides jostling each other to grab a foreign tourist party, vendors - wondering no doubt, what could be of so much interest that one thinks nothing of spending huge amounts to travel to Sanchi from great distances, on taxis, on guidebooks, on cameras, on guides and yet haggle about parking fees (I did), shoo away beggars.
Bija Mandal jayengi? Surendra sounded incredibly bored. Aapko pata hai naa, I ask? Haan, Vidisha main, he says. So, onto Vidisha which was once a super prosperous town, mentioned in Kalidasa's Meghdoot. Home town of Devi, Ashoka the great's wife. Really? Impossibly narrow, dirty crowded little town, could be anywhere in India. Garbage demarcating lanes, cross roads. Cows, pigs, dogs. And the seemingly random use of colours - green door here, yellow window there, a woman in a bright pink sari - colours foreigners would find eye catching and dutifully photograph. We went round and round while the roads became narrower and crowded. Finally, even my enthusiasm palled. Chalo. Surendra's relief was short lived. To Heliodorus' pillar, I said.
The pillar, standing sentinel from so long ago, now, in the middle of absolutely no where. No one around. A stray dog and me (embarrassingly touristy in jeans, windcheater, camera, mineral water bottle now containing local tap water filled at my hotel in Bhopal and guide book). The pillar stands in a fenced area with trees. There is a board of the archeological society of India. Surendra must have wondered at my choice of place. And might he be right? A pillar. Except that there is a thrill to think what it might have been around 110 BCE when a Greek ambassador of the Indo-Greek king Antialcidas to the court of the Sunga king Bhagabhadra had it erected. According to some records, he had converted to hinduism (?) since it was dedicated to Vishnu. Having seen the pillars which took about 2-3 minutes, there was well, nothing much to do. And yet, having come here all the way, I could hardly make a hasty exit, could I? So I loitered around for another 5 minutes or so, frequently consulting the MP Tourism brochure before leaving for the last stop (while Surendra kept in turns looking at the pillar and at me, in puzzled amazement).
Udaigiri. Ancient rock cut temples on a dark hill from the Gupta period. The lone caretaker was quite happy to see me, the lone tourist and showed me around. No signs / tablets or whatever they are called - detailing history and information would have been helpful. The climb was painful. The descent excruciating. Thankgod for Surendra. He helped me down, step by painful and vertigo inducing step. Did he wonder what the hell was I doing there? He must have.
There were the obligatory "Sonu loves Pinky" graffitti in hard to reach places. God. Why do people deface these places so? And how do they reach those places and carve out these messages?Panting, gasping (me) and relieved Surendra left Udaigiri for our return back to Bhopal. Just a while back, in Sanchi, what a thrill it was to see slabs inscribed in pali / parakrit? Or was it just plain graffitti? Should I then be so upset with "Sonu love Pinky" modern variety. Who knows? A couple of millenia later, will a future archeological society be constructing guard rails and guided tours on "Sonu Loves Pinky"?! Maybe?!
As I made my way back to Bhopal, I think I got my answer as to who won. Not Sanchi, nor Bhimbetka. But Time - that mighty leveller. Man might make short term gains like in Sanchi but sooner or later, will have to bow done to time!
I found neat info on Sanchi here.
PS - The cam I took from my colleague was out of memory and I couldn't figure out how to erase all the old pictures. I could take only 4. Can you imagine my angst at deciding which 4 to take? And anyhow, am still waiting for my colleague to mail me those pix. In the meanwile, some neat Sanchi pix at Aaravind GJ's.
Friday, December 25, 2009
A Kolkata Christmas
Ah Kolkata! And its festive spirit and its traditions! If it is 24th of December, it has to be cake for the Bengali. Fruit cake, plum cake, almond cake etc --- better known as Christmas Cake. First ofcourse sampled from gifts from Christian colleagues at work and ensured by frequent reminders from about couple of months back, say right after the Durga Pujas!!!! Next, also bought from shops which suddenly stock enormous quantities of this "christmas cake".
24th sort of brought in a holiday mood although till the new year, there is only one official holiday - 25th! Never mind. Our ladies club met out of schedule to watch first day, night show of Three Idiots (one of our triad thought my SMS was referring to us), while the suddenly excluded hubby of S went to the Sri Lanka - India one dayer. We met up at 12:15am when our movie got over and he had made his way back from Eden Gardens, for ofcourse the other great Kolkata tradition - head for Park Street. While rest of Kolkata is slumbering (and rightly so), snug in bed, Park Street is ALIVE. Every one is there. Wearing santa caps (this years model had a blinking bulb on top - the "tuni" variety). And rest of Kolkata might verily be quiet, dark, cold and empty as a December night would be.
Tired of the enormous tub of popcorn and jaws and forehead aching with chewing the aforementioned corn, we need food. So we head for what seems to be the only place open - Flurys (we ignore OlyPub). Houseful and an ever growing waiting list, all seriously tucking in the not so inexpensive fare! Ah!
Bone tired (I was just back from MP on 23rd night and a full work day on 24th + late night movie) I crashed out at 3am at S's house and slept right through the freezing - OK not freezing but the serious chill - that crept in through windows! And on to 25th. And lucky lucky me - I get to celebrate the third tradition - the traditional Christmas Lunch. Good pal Anne had just come in from Delhi and invited me over to her large and warm family - aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews - all welcomed me in and stuffed me with a great lunch which lasted over a few hours. Sated with all the good food, sleepy from all the ginger wine, laden with gift, another christmas cake, rose cookies, I crawl home.
Merry, Merry Christmas!
24th sort of brought in a holiday mood although till the new year, there is only one official holiday - 25th! Never mind. Our ladies club met out of schedule to watch first day, night show of Three Idiots (one of our triad thought my SMS was referring to us), while the suddenly excluded hubby of S went to the Sri Lanka - India one dayer. We met up at 12:15am when our movie got over and he had made his way back from Eden Gardens, for ofcourse the other great Kolkata tradition - head for Park Street. While rest of Kolkata is slumbering (and rightly so), snug in bed, Park Street is ALIVE. Every one is there. Wearing santa caps (this years model had a blinking bulb on top - the "tuni" variety). And rest of Kolkata might verily be quiet, dark, cold and empty as a December night would be.
Tired of the enormous tub of popcorn and jaws and forehead aching with chewing the aforementioned corn, we need food. So we head for what seems to be the only place open - Flurys (we ignore OlyPub). Houseful and an ever growing waiting list, all seriously tucking in the not so inexpensive fare! Ah!
Bone tired (I was just back from MP on 23rd night and a full work day on 24th + late night movie) I crashed out at 3am at S's house and slept right through the freezing - OK not freezing but the serious chill - that crept in through windows! And on to 25th. And lucky lucky me - I get to celebrate the third tradition - the traditional Christmas Lunch. Good pal Anne had just come in from Delhi and invited me over to her large and warm family - aunts, uncles, sisters, brothers, nieces, nephews - all welcomed me in and stuffed me with a great lunch which lasted over a few hours. Sated with all the good food, sleepy from all the ginger wine, laden with gift, another christmas cake, rose cookies, I crawl home.
Merry, Merry Christmas!
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