Mardi was my shopping day, during our stay in France. I really looked forward to the Mardi Marche rather than the cheaper Super Marche. Oh the joys of going through the stalls with the beautifully arranged fresh produce sold by the farmers themselves. The aroma of roast chicken would fill the air (and have my stomach growling). Also, this was my chance to practice my spoken french! The farmers were a most friendly lot.
Back in India, we shopped as and when required. Didn't have a fixed day or shop. Meat, fish, veggies were A's department. Condiments were mine. We had been meaning to go to the nearby Wazirabad "haat" for quite some time. And recenlty, shaking off our intertia and mind block, we did just that. Despite the incredible dust which had us all sneezing and choking, it was very enjoyable. Stalls were marked by bamboo poles pegged in the ground with the produce spread on plastic sheets in between. The bamboo poles not only marked out each stall but were used to hold a long length of wire from which bulbs were suspended! The same crying out of wares, prices, haggling. Different place, different people, but the ethos was more or less the same.
There were some very marked differences (this is India after all). Bright splashes of colour, more crwoded and not at all orderly or quiet and enormous amount of dust. But that was not the main difference. There was a small skirmish when the bamboo poles supporting the electrical wire fell and down came the entire length. Some one yelled "Batti wala ko bulao". Apparently each haat have their own "batti waala". Now here's the difference: a herd of buffaloes had pushed their way in and had knocked the poles down! The batti wala fixed the problem, the bulls were gently allowed to pass. Nobody noticed and life went on. I wouldn't have either, normally, had I not been thinking about the marches!
On my second visit to the haat, I got a severe shock when I suddenly found an ENORMOUS black and white bull breathing down my neck. Actually, it was just trying to sample some of the veggies on display. No one chased it away. Naturally. Given it's size and the fact that the passage between the vendors was really narrow, it would have started a stampede. I gingerly stepped away and kept a wary distance between us. The bull hung around for quite some time tyring this and that and it was quite sweet - like an overgrown bumbling baby!
Am looking forward to my next shopping day. What a wide variety of greens (and reds,yellows and other colours too), very fresh, affordable and pesticide free (many more varieties of creepy crawlies each time I empty my shopping bag). And of course the bull adding the final, inimitable Indian touch to it!
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
Friday, October 05, 2007
Goodbye Ms. M
I did it. Finally. Screwed up the courage to tell M that her services were no longer required. And it has taken me exactly four months to do so.
M our cook, landed up on the very day we moved here. And from then on, apart from cooking extremely mediocre meals, has been a source of constant torment to me. Each morning I'd wait for her to turn up and make my breakfast or rather A's breakfast since he like elaborate ones and not the plain milk and cereal sort. I'd arrive home late from work, dead tired, crawl in to bed, sleep uneasily with my never ending job lists haunting me and crawl out bleary eyed next morning. As the minutes would tick past and the clock inch towards 9 when my cab would arrive, I'd start making A's breakfast. On a good day, M would turn up just as I would enter the kitchen and on a bad day (which was more often the case) just after I'd finish making A's breakfast. I would have minutes if not seconds to spare and rush without giving M a piece of my mind and of course, sans breakfast.
She did turn up early, well before 9...but only on weekends, when I would be really loathe to leave my bed early.
She'd never remember the recipes and finish cooking (irrespective of the number of dishes) in less than an hour and leave with the kitchen tap dripping, lights and exhaust fan on, the kitchen a mess. But I couldn't complain. Work swallowed up most of my time.
If I am sounding mean, I am not. I let her take a day off whenever she wanted to or if she said she was not well. And more over we often spend the weekends with our in-laws and was OK with her flexi timings.
Recently, I quit my job (Yes, I have quit), and now had the time to supervise her.
"Why are you late?"
"Well you are home now, so I can come in a bit late", meaning What's the fuss? You can make the breakfast can't you?
"Don't drop the peels on the floor", I tell M.
"J hasn't come today has she?", referring to the other maid who does the floors, and continues to drop peels on the floor.
Each morning, the same thing. M with her face an unreadable mask and me sounding like a nagging stuck record.
Recently friends were coming for lunch. So I'd ask M to chop up veggies after she made the breakfast. I could begin the cooking lunch and M when she returned could do the rest. When she turned up three hours later, I had finished two dishes. She took one look at the uncooked bhindis and said, "Three hours and you haven't done the bhindis yet?"
Just after I quit my job, A and I went for a seven day trip to MP. Before leaving, I told both M and J to check at 10 on the day we were returning. J dutifully did. M sauntered in at 1. By that time, I had ofcourse finished cooking lunch.
"What"?, I asked her angrily.
"What do I cook?"
"Nothing, I have finished".
"OK", she leaves, cool as a cucumber.
She turns up at 12 one day.
"Why didnt you come earlier"?
"Here I am", (ignoring my comment).
"Yes I can see that. But why so late"?
"Oh, I overslept".
You get the picture. After much internal debating, I told her not to come any more.
J, the other maid, tells me the next day, M has found three new jobs. And she is getting paid really well.
And she reminds me again the next day.
I retain my cool and say that is really, really good.
And then she tells A, "Madam is so nice. She is doing all the cooking herself and is saving you money". Argh!
And finally, today, she has a ring side view of my cooking episode involving lots of lal saag, worms, my hysteria and her eventually rescuing me from it. Bet she and M are having a nice laugh.
M our cook, landed up on the very day we moved here. And from then on, apart from cooking extremely mediocre meals, has been a source of constant torment to me. Each morning I'd wait for her to turn up and make my breakfast or rather A's breakfast since he like elaborate ones and not the plain milk and cereal sort. I'd arrive home late from work, dead tired, crawl in to bed, sleep uneasily with my never ending job lists haunting me and crawl out bleary eyed next morning. As the minutes would tick past and the clock inch towards 9 when my cab would arrive, I'd start making A's breakfast. On a good day, M would turn up just as I would enter the kitchen and on a bad day (which was more often the case) just after I'd finish making A's breakfast. I would have minutes if not seconds to spare and rush without giving M a piece of my mind and of course, sans breakfast.
She did turn up early, well before 9...but only on weekends, when I would be really loathe to leave my bed early.
She'd never remember the recipes and finish cooking (irrespective of the number of dishes) in less than an hour and leave with the kitchen tap dripping, lights and exhaust fan on, the kitchen a mess. But I couldn't complain. Work swallowed up most of my time.
If I am sounding mean, I am not. I let her take a day off whenever she wanted to or if she said she was not well. And more over we often spend the weekends with our in-laws and was OK with her flexi timings.
Recently, I quit my job (Yes, I have quit), and now had the time to supervise her.
"Why are you late?"
"Well you are home now, so I can come in a bit late", meaning What's the fuss? You can make the breakfast can't you?
"Don't drop the peels on the floor", I tell M.
"J hasn't come today has she?", referring to the other maid who does the floors, and continues to drop peels on the floor.
Each morning, the same thing. M with her face an unreadable mask and me sounding like a nagging stuck record.
Recently friends were coming for lunch. So I'd ask M to chop up veggies after she made the breakfast. I could begin the cooking lunch and M when she returned could do the rest. When she turned up three hours later, I had finished two dishes. She took one look at the uncooked bhindis and said, "Three hours and you haven't done the bhindis yet?"
Just after I quit my job, A and I went for a seven day trip to MP. Before leaving, I told both M and J to check at 10 on the day we were returning. J dutifully did. M sauntered in at 1. By that time, I had ofcourse finished cooking lunch.
"What"?, I asked her angrily.
"What do I cook?"
"Nothing, I have finished".
"OK", she leaves, cool as a cucumber.
She turns up at 12 one day.
"Why didnt you come earlier"?
"Here I am", (ignoring my comment).
"Yes I can see that. But why so late"?
"Oh, I overslept".
You get the picture. After much internal debating, I told her not to come any more.
J, the other maid, tells me the next day, M has found three new jobs. And she is getting paid really well.
And she reminds me again the next day.
I retain my cool and say that is really, really good.
And then she tells A, "Madam is so nice. She is doing all the cooking herself and is saving you money". Argh!
And finally, today, she has a ring side view of my cooking episode involving lots of lal saag, worms, my hysteria and her eventually rescuing me from it. Bet she and M are having a nice laugh.
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