There are times when you stop expecting comments on the blog and then there are times when a comment like this comes in which make it all worthwhile…thanks Pallavi for writing in and for sharing your memories and inspiring one to write…
“Hi Kalyan,
30 years without dad. Nothing can prepare us for this. It is complete chaos when certain things are thrown at us and we don’t know how to handle them.
You mentioned in one of your blogs that there is lot of your dad in you . Comforting for your mummy. (forgive me if i am not using appropriate word. so bad in writing skills)
Kalyan, both of us had the not so common but precious privilege of spending our childhood days with our maternal grandparents. Where on this earth we will find that purity of emotions, sense of well being when we had them around us. They were never tired when we were hungry and that divine shining happiness across their faces watching us eat.
I was so stuck up with my daily routine. In of your blogs, you described a simple dish such as poha as GRANDMOTHERLY.
All of a sudden ,I was schoolgirl of say eight or nine . I studied in a zilha parishad school in a serenely beautiful village in Vasai.On various such lazy monsoon afternoons, my class teacher who loved me so much, used to give me a familiar smile. And I used to rush towards the the school gate. Waiting there would be my nani wearing soft cotton nine yard saree (I can still feel it if i close my eyes.) I would spread my hands and she would place a medium sized stainless steel dabba filled with warm poha. It had fried potatoes, generous spread of freshly grated coconut and a slice of lime.After that she would take out two beautiful pink roses (picked from her garden).They had that amazingly sweet fragrance of gulkand.”Wait Pallavi,”she used to say and pass on a one rupee coin.I was back to the class holding it tight.Can I get those days back? Thanks for using that word. (MY 10 yr old son addresses my mum as DIDU.) “
Pallavi Punmiya
“Hi Kalyan,
30 years without dad. Nothing can prepare us for this. It is complete chaos when certain things are thrown at us and we don’t know how to handle them.
You mentioned in one of your blogs that there is lot of your dad in you . Comforting for your mummy. (forgive me if i am not using appropriate word. so bad in writing skills)
Kalyan, both of us had the not so common but precious privilege of spending our childhood days with our maternal grandparents. Where on this earth we will find that purity of emotions, sense of well being when we had them around us. They were never tired when we were hungry and that divine shining happiness across their faces watching us eat.
I was so stuck up with my daily routine. In of your blogs, you described a simple dish such as poha as GRANDMOTHERLY.
All of a sudden ,I was schoolgirl of say eight or nine . I studied in a zilha parishad school in a serenely beautiful village in Vasai.On various such lazy monsoon afternoons, my class teacher who loved me so much, used to give me a familiar smile. And I used to rush towards the the school gate. Waiting there would be my nani wearing soft cotton nine yard saree (I can still feel it if i close my eyes.) I would spread my hands and she would place a medium sized stainless steel dabba filled with warm poha. It had fried potatoes, generous spread of freshly grated coconut and a slice of lime.After that she would take out two beautiful pink roses (picked from her garden).They had that amazingly sweet fragrance of gulkand.”Wait Pallavi,”she used to say and pass on a one rupee coin.I was back to the class holding it tight.Can I get those days back? Thanks for using that word. (MY 10 yr old son addresses my mum as DIDU.) “
Pallavi Punmiya
