Points To Ponder

 Adulting .. I have seen this word so many times on Instagram posts and memes, its always a funny verb albeit does bring with it a sense of responsibility. Something you always thought your parents had it figured out. I was seeing a post on a fifteen year old Indian American who has apparently has had major  accomplishments which most of us hadn't even thought of. I suddenly realized that she could  have been my daughter and, that's when it really hit me! That I am indeed slowly inching towards middle age ( dragging my feet, kicking and screaming and sometimes head down and shoulders braced for whatever is coming my way)

I unfortunately don't even know when I hit adulthood, let alone middle aged one at that, and so my pondering begins...When exactly do we become an adult? When we turn 18 , with right to vote (and change the world) and drive, or is it 21 when we can legally get married ( and embark on an adventure), drink ( responsibly, I hope). Maybe its 25 when you finally get a job after your masters and start paying taxes  (And complain how underutilized the tax money is and how corrupted the officials are). Or when we get married and have kids( definitely hope you are an adult by then). But what of those of us who aren't married or have kids? Do we get to stay a kid for the rest of our lives?  My logical side begs to differ as suddenly in your wrong side of thirties two things hit you . One is that you will retire soon in less than  2 decades hopefully which will fly by judging by the speed at which  the past 2 decades have flown. I still remember taking admission in the college, standing uncertain and being clueless as to what my future holds. 20 years later, I still seem to be experiencing similar emotions. I am still pondering on how to make millions before I retire (Only partly kidding). Debating the personal/ professional choices you have made in the past or contemplating the future of your career graph or the lack of there of.   The second one is the most popular faced by millennials evidently-  existential crisis. Spiritual exploration ends up being a more complex one, when you start contemplating the purpose of your existence or your calling in life.

You realize you have none of that figured out, or even understand the basics of it. You always thought there was time. You will deal with it when you are an " ADULT". Evidently I am one by popular opinion, although for the most part I don't feel like one, I almost wish there was a cheat sheet and an exam before they gave you the title. Adulting evokes in me another emotion..  Fear. My biggest fear ? .. Regret. I don't want to regret the time wasted. I already have a bag full.  Regret of not pursuing passions or the courage to defy the societal norms. Regret of not following the dreams, Regret of not expressing to the loved ones. Regret of not keeping in touch with old friends and relatives.  Regret of never asserting oneself . I once read that you never regret things you have done, its usually things you haven't. I realize that by experience to be a word of truth.  How would life have been if you had done exactly as you wanted to, maybe things would have been better or, worse and maybe you would have regretted taking that path....But wouldn't your baggage be so much lighter, without the burden of regrets and dreams that never took flight? 

A Bengali for a day

 Its a sunny friday afternoon, May 1st-  Pandemic of 2020,one of the not so good weeks with two of the bollywood favorite actors' deaths one after the other (one of them my favorite) on top of everything else. These are the days of staying in and staying safe. My escape- books or cooking and other hobbies that have kept me occupied. Although, I do miss my traveling more than I thought I would.  Not having eaten out in 3 months,  I am try to re-create some dishes at home (to keep my sanity), successfully and sometimes not. Talking on the phone gets old sometimes, with nothing new to talk about. I get excited with a new good movie I saw or a book I read. Food is a solace or an experience, for a foodie. (People who want to judge at this point, can go for it, I am past caring, Each one to their own). Food is also part of travel experiences that I miss.  

   I  just got done marinating the fish for machher jhol ( famous bengali dish to be eaten with rice) and making okra sabzi or dry variety to be eaten usually with Rotis. I decided I was going to be a bengali for the day.  Trying to relive some of my vague and vivid memories of Calcutta during kindergarten years. I remember our maid Konu and her sister Gayatri coming home to help mom. Its interesting I remember their names and vaguely their faces after 30 some years,  especially when I forget some names from yesterday (maybe its just my short term memory deficit with aging). Some memories are hard wired for sure.  bhindi sabzi I make often is one of my all time favorites, taught by Kono.(Mom made even after we left Calcutta by popular demand) She also got some catfish for me to eat and remember having the thorn stuck in my throat, not fun. Luchhi or Puri stuffed with peas and eaten with paneer gravy was another of those memories of attending functions. I had a neighbor who usually kept some jalebis for the Thakurji. I remember going to her place and being given some, except, mom told me later that I went and asked for "jilabi" 😜 That's when I found another favorite dessert of mine. I guess, I was a foodie with a sweet tooth as early as 4 years old. Definitely not averse to going and demanding from others. (Nothing comes between me and my food). I  would probably even sit and pray if that was the reward. Interestingly, even then I never developed a taste for bengali sweets, too sweet for me, although my family and friends love it and think I am weird. They could be right. I wont explore it, just yet, I do like mishti dhoi or sweet yogurt.  

 I loved my days in Calcutta. Carefree with my dolls, talking to myself (which worried my mom to no end) Kids do that all the time, have imaginary friends since I did not have any neighbors my age to play with. I remember the house we lived in distinctly, it was traditional old bengali house with our landlord living on the floor above us.  We had a mental hospital close to our house (I think my dad did not realize that until after he rented the place), as it was near our schools. I do remember occasionally hearing the screams in the silence of the night. Maybe someone getting their then "treatment". Not sure if it bothered me much or if  I even understood anything then. I wasn't scared, that much I know, as the memories don't hold any fear.  Maybe I just built my own world around me with my books (I am good at that). That  was when I started my fairy tales, still remember my Rapunzel book. My sister made me learn to read my books as she refused to read it to me. 😢 I did learn a little bit of bengali, ( maybe a stretch it was mostly just poems that my sister had to learn, I can still recite one verse, 😉Younger siblings , we always have to mimic our older ones, its in our DNA ). Calcutta is a city of readers, books galore. Mom found a library close by and still kept herself busy in the new place reading in her free time, I always remember her with a thick book and her nose buried in it. My two close friends Ashwini and Nisha then ( no way to contact or trace the whereabouts). I wonder sometimes what they've been up to, if they remember me. I don't have any pictures of them, their faces and our games were vividly clear but clouds with the passing years (I did try looking them up several years ago on facebook, but its tough if women change names after marriage). 

Few years ago I saw Rabindranath Tagore series and Macher jhol on netflix that brought back memories that lay dormant. Whenever I see a movie or read  a book set in calcutta/ Bengal , there is a yearning to go and re-visit the city with fresh pair of eyes and open mind. I vaguely remember the tram and metro rides. When things get back to normal, and I can make plans for my trips, would definitely have calcutta/ Kolkata on my list. To experience all that the city has to offer from food to culture, everything that makes the city unique.😊

  P.S. My macher jhol flopped a little, belatedly realized the mustard oil has expired. Debating between buying one today or using the expired oil. Making it with regular oil won. Taste is not bad but definitely not authentic or even close, I am sure. For now I am just happy I tried it.