Bits of life

A-17 words-1250

few minutes we heard someone arriving in the portico. The car door slammed and the sound of people entering the hall way was distinctly heard.

“Oh that must be Cathy and Maryann. She told me on the phone she would start a little late as she had to finish some last minute business at the bank,” I informed the group around the dining table.

Betty escorted Cathy and a friend of hers. Everyone got up to say hello to Cathy and Maryann shook hands with them as John did the introduction around the table. Almost everyone knows Maryann as happened to be the sister of uncle Jeremiah’s wife. As mentioned before Maryann lives a block away from Cathy’s house and in addition to that they went to school together. It was really a fortunate thing to continue friendship from childhood days onward. Friends make good soundboards whether in sad times or happy days that one passes through in the sojourn of life. Cathy and Maryann joined us at the dining table and we commenced eating after my mom said grace.

She had this habit from her as a young child and later as a young woman and then as a married woman. My father was not particular about thanking God for the food we had. But my mom believed in this traditional practice and continued with it daily. She felt that the younger generation needed this reminder to keep meaningful customs in place and follow them so they can guide the future generation. I agreed with her conviction. No one had ever seen God. Yet whenever we felt let down we asked him, “why me God?” and some would fall into the trap of depression if they continue to be in the slough of negative thinking. To avoid these undesirable circumstances, we need to trust some super power whom the believing human kind addressed as God. Religion was and always will be a private matter. You talk to God or you don’t talk to God as per your wish and belief. It is a mere illusion to think that human being is absolutely strong and can weather any kind of situation. “ he was simply a man, with weakness and frailties.” A person with weakness and frailty would definitely need help and help from a stronger entity. Hence we go to mosque or temple, or a pagoda, or a church or synagogue to pray and get relief from whatever that bothered us at that moment of time. Religion also happened to be one of the most ancient practices that mankind indulged in and experienced peace thereby.
My mom needed this divine entity when she faced life alone and helpless. She told me that it was prayer that helped her in maintaining peace of mind and stand tall to face the windfalls in her life with boldness and confidence.

After the loss of my dad and after the impasse among her and her siblings regarding property divisions, she knew time had come for her to stand on her own feet. It was at that time that her training as a seamstress came in good stead and stood by her and her infant son, that was me. I remember her taking orders for stitching dresses and being quite substantially for her work by rich customers. It was during that period she came in contact with a tailoring institute. The master of the shop liked her work and appointed her as his assistant. Her salary was good and our days of tribulations were over to a great extent. Later the same master found another branch of his shop and gave mother free rein on managing the original one. My mother showed immense profits and business started growing. The branch had a good reputation and people used to come far and near. I was a school going kid at that time and on way to home I used to stop by her shop, “Madam’s choice,” and talk to her a bit before going home, change and go to play in the playfield opposite our house.
Mom used to return home at seven pm and we used to have dinner by half past seven. We played scrabble for another half an hour and went to bed by half past eight. This was our nice routine during my school days. We both needed to rise early, eat breakfast of boiled eggs, omelets, some sprouts and fruit. It was sumptuous though simple breakfast. It kept my energy levels high without making me feel full.

After school I joined college and the routine changed quite a bit. I was no longer able to enjoy my mom’s company and conversation. The habits she inculcated in me stood etched into my character and I was glad and grateful for that. So facing life all on my own at the dormitory of our college was no problem at all. Rising early and go for jogging and exercising for twenty minutes on the roof top of our house was something that I had been doing for as long as could remember. Having breakfast and leaving for school was punctual. Afternoon lunch was supplied by the hostel canteen. I used to consume large quantities of salad and fruit. The main course was either fish or mixed vegetables or chicken well cooked with less oil. I was never encouraged to drink soda or any other drink. I used to have a lot of water, at least two liters a day if not more. Night’s dinner was not compulsory. Usually, I used to have some fruit and go to bed. My fellow students used to make funny comments on my habits and the strict following of a routine. But I used to brush them away with a smile. I loved the way my mom planned our days and I am happy I was able understand the good behind it and followed her dictums to a tee.

These were some thoughts that passed through my brain as everyone around the dining table closed their eyes and at the end of the prayed said “Amen” in unison.

“My father was a stickler to these practices. No wonder my sisters followed them quite faithfully,” John said with a twinkle to his eyes.
Elvira observed, “my parents too followed the routine of saying grace before a meal whether at home or outside visiting.”
“I am sure they did,” said uncle John looking at her from the opposite side of the table. He was flanked by Cathy on the one side and Maryann on the other. Conversation started flying as course after course was supplied by our very efficient butler and the maid.
The sound of cutlery on crockery was heard distinctly, its twinkling rather musical to my ears. With our hunger satisfied and thirst quenched with fresh juices and wine for those who preferred it, all of us relaxed till the desserts arrived. It was banana souffle with crunchy biscuits. We tucked into our souffle with gusto and enjoyed every spoonful.
“Uncle John, what a wonderful thing that the souffle still tastes as deliciously as it was during our visits to Emerald Farm in the past,” I observed.
“Oh, yea, Jim. Your grandmother’s recipes are still the most popular compared to the modern delicacies. Truly, old is gold,’ he responded.

We got up to stroll outside where the tall willows and eucalyptus provided shade and a south wind gently blowing soothed our heated bodies. We lingered under the trees.