A Farewell and a Birthday

P. K. Hormis Tharakan is a gentleman among the diplomats and, for those who knew him, also an 'officer' at large. Some cheeky tongues say in jest - it was the pressure of these well earned epithets that compelled him to leave exactly on their scheduled date of departure - not staying on for even a day longer after the 'farewells' ended - breaking all previously set traditions of "the valley", diplomatic or otherwise. Soft spoken, mild-mannered and polite to the hilt, always impeccably dressed ( possibly a carry over of his Italian stint ) Hormis is an epitome of refinement. The salt & pepper moustache and understated smile gave him an old world charm - an instant hit with the women ("they find me - Oh, so safe !" he would say with an impish grin), which 'S…' considered unfair competition. Molly - as sweet as one would expect anyone of that lovely name to be - is the most fantastic cook and her dinners were the talk of the Embassy circuit. She made the most divine Appam and Stew, which 'N & S' would not miss for any other party in town. So much so, before leaving she gifted to 'N..' her 30 year old heir-loom "Chatti" (sauce pan for cooking appams) alongwith the "foolproof" non-stick family receipe (it's quite another matter that N..'s 'hopper' experiments so far have turned out more like Scrambled Rice-pudding than anything resembling those fluffy-base delights).

Appu and Mathu their 2 boys are the most unbelievably well mannered youngsters one can find today (which makes S.. feel guilty remembering what a terrible chap he was at their age, and he has only gone downhill since then). Mathu the younger one was shy and very much a Mama's boy - whom Molly (is that what "Molly-coddling" means ?) would try to force-feed back to health for all the imagined starvation of hostel life (indeed, he was having a problem adjusting to Singapore food). Appu in contrast had taken more after the father growing up like a typical Stephenian, which he is. By the end of their tenure, however, Mathu became quite apologetic about all the calamities that struck the kingdom, every time he returned to Kats for his vacations ( the first December, it was the hijack drama, next Christmas it was the 'Hrithik' fiasco and finally the "Love Ke Liye Kuch Bhi Karega" episode). Appu on the other hand became an expert at manning the telephone control room at home - somethingt he claims he had picked-up, when he was much younger, during their Sri Lanka stay, where such incidents were routine occurrences of every other night.

We had the privilege of having the Hormises over at home for a quiet meal - the evening before their departure, with D-Babu, Pb-Di and Amit-da for company. Rainbow Trouts from the Trishuli cooked in Chillies and Basil provided the perfect material for dissecting the reminiscences of past 3 years - separating the flesh from the bones, leaving only the bare skeletons on the plate. Washing it all down with a fine Barbera, even the 'ever-so-proper' Tharakkan-saar couldn't hide his sense of relief at handing over charge of - what he admits was, in many ways - the most eventful assignment of his long and chequered career. Now, we have to remain ever so "Pyasi" for such accounts.

Kids, they say, grow up much faster these days and certainly a lot smarter. And, above anything else they have a far better dress sense - sometimes even before they learn to crawl. That's certainly the case of the 1 year old, whose Birthday bash we went for last evening. Yeah, we are talking of Kunda's baby - the Nepali Times, which came of age from its very first issue and is already 52 weeks old. It's arguably the best product of Nepal (after, perhaps, only Fair & Lovely ). While everyone praises its contents (Kunda believes that most people start reading it from the back - and sometimes get no further, absolutely no prizes for guessing why), we love its layout and design. On that count alone it can take on any newspaper in the world - not just another tabloid. But, what really distinguishes it is its editorial quality. NT has one of the finest copy-desk - tho' from the first to the last word it bears the signature Kunda stamp (no wonder he needs a hat to store so much under his silver lined pate). It's unmistakably a labour of love - therefore, sometimes one worries whether he may be inadvertently setting a far-too-high standard for his off-spring, which he might find difficult to keep up, as it grows up to be a big 'daily'. Until then, we have no doubt, it would remain both "fair" and "lovely".

Friday night dinner was with the Seths at the Royal Singhi Roof-top Chinese restaurant. The ambience of the place is going to seeds (tattered carpets, stained table cloths and unwashed napkins) but the food is great. Nibbling at timur-spiced fried mutton ribs, we discussed the toilet training of their dog - Caesar and the mild incontinence problem the pup seems to have whenever he gets too excited. By the time, later at night, when we had adjourned to the Rads for desserts and coffee (they now have a lovely gourmet selection of beans from all over the world), the topic had veered onto beach etiquette in nudist colonies. Not that anyone of us have ever been to one or even planning to go in the future, it's simply a part of A & S..'s early Boy Scout training, where they were brought up on the motto: (always) "Be Prepared".

Kats, Rains and The Woods

N… has a tough time explaining to friends and neighbours why S… chooses to take off to Mumbai always over a weekend. Surely it can't be work - they all agree and none is willing to buy the rather wet-excuse that, he loves to watch the rains from his Gulita guest-house window. That's something he could have done as well in Kats, which has a pretty good monsoon of its own - tho' it may not be quite the "real stuff". But, to miss all those farewell lunches and dinners, in the bargain, makes no sense at all - they insist. The inquisitors are further outraged when he goes on to wax lyrical about ultimate ethereal beauty of the mating of the sea and the clouds. As the dark gray clouds ( is that why they are called "rain-bearing" ? ) move over the dusky Arabian waters, nature takes on a lusty hue that's not to be seen anywhere else in the world. Foreplay over, when he finally touches down to kiss her dark tresses and she - in protest and excitement -lashes her waves on the concrete promenades of Worli Sea face, spraying mist all over - it makes for one of the most exquisitely sublime scene of love making that the mind can imagine. Not being given to spurious poetry - the 'Set-nic' mind concludes that this is clearly a case of transposition of experience and demands to know who the real 'woman' is.

It was the 12th of July - another angry monsoon day exactly 6 years ago. 2 identical navy blue Marutis were doing a fast crawl, ant-like, up the Khandala ghats on the way to Pune. S… was leading the way with Abba in the first car, in the back seat was Sharada - the "Nanny-on-Loan" whom Amma had brought along from Calcutta. Behind them, in the second, was little Jaya - then all of 8 months old, perched like a tiny doll on her Amma's comforting lap, the first outing of her life, blissfully clueless about the 'journey' she had embarked upon. Her 'Ranjit-chacha' was on the wheels, with N… sitting next to him as the 'trying-to-be-helpful' navigator making sense of the winding road through the slitting rain. The same morning Amma-Abba (S…'s parents ) had arrived from Kolkata by the Howrah Mail with Sharada in tow. Pradeep-Gauri (Chatterjee ) had taken them home to Bandra, where N & S arrived a little later with their bundle of 'Joy(a)' via the Math in Khar. The previous evening they had attended the 'service' the Sisters had specially kept for their chosen one and in the morning when they went to formally 'receive' her - she had been dressed-up like a bride-to-be, bonnet et all. At the Chat's Jaya shared a meal with their daughter - coincidentally, also named Joyeeta and roughly the same age - and tippled a little on her friend's bottle of Triominic ( a paedeatric antihistamine syrup ) to get ready for the long car-ride, being a little down under the weather.

When the cars reached "The Woods" in Koregaon Park it was already evening. The sky had begun to clear and the full moon of 'Guru Purnima' ( the day Amma had chosen ) peeped through the spanish-windows of the flat to have a look at the treasure she had brought home to the Ghoses - as Ranjit raised a "Royal Salute" to his niece's 'home-coming' with the vintage bottle that Didi (N..'s sister) had gifted many years ago - preserved, unknowingly, just for such an occasion.

There goes the secret of another 'woman' in S..'s life.

Victoria's Secret and Catharsis by Overhearing Oneself

According to Dubby's view of modern psychology, there are 4 stages to the resolution of a tragedy. At first there is denial, which is replaced by shock and disbelief, giving way to understanding that ultimately leads to closure through catharsis - clearing the way for life to move ahead once again. On Sunday night, the group that had gathered at Usha-TV's - were clearly in a mode of transition between stages 3 to 4. Normally, the Kats socialites suffer from chronic party hangover. But, the 2 weeks of mourning (when all entertaining was taboo) had forced a social sabbatical of sorts on the city cocktail circuit regulars. So, recovering from mild symptoms of party-drought, everyone was gasping for a breath of fresh air and an opportunity to unwind. ( Can't think of letting your hair down in the sedate surroundings of a Baluwater Tamil house-hold. In anycase, the men with their shaven heads couldn't have contributed much in that respect ). The only Rana woman in our midst ( the closest we can get to Royalty, as S… never misses an opportunity to point out ) enthralled the ladies with the 'inner sanctum' account of the events and a low down on the who's who of the drama. Equally fascinating, was listening to the RB brothers on how they struggled on that fateful night with the decision of putting up the news on their website. And, of course, we teased RB-junior on the 'Salzburg syndrome' for his valiant defense of Barkha Dutt ("she's really an extremely nice girl - very genuine, you know! ") with whom he had spent a week in romantic Austria on a seminar junket some months ago (no wonder he hears only the 'sound of music' in all her reportage and not to mention the missed dagger 'eye contacts' of his pretty wife). But, by the end of the evening - judging from the roll of laughter and the free flow of the 'unofficial' 'RAT-TAT-TAT' jokes (which our newly learnt rules of self-censorship would not allow us to publish) - everyone seemed ready to get on once again with the business of living life "king size" ( 'Shikhar' being the new brand of choice).

In Bengal, we call the feast to mark the end of mourning - 'Niyam Bhanga', meaning - quite literally - breaking the rule. To that extent, we had a rather 'unruly' ( but thoroughly enjoyable ) bash on Friday for the impromptu celebrations of the 'M's 20th wedding anniversary (for which, we're have been warned by well-meaning well-wishers, our friendly neighbours may never forgive us). It was a last minute impulse decision of S… to call up all (but one ) the guests asking them to bring along something that would both 'surprise' and 'embarrass' the 'M's. With a little help from Khanna-saab of the Anna ( it pays to have friends at the right places ) the Ghoses organised a cake with 20 plus 5 written on it (20 years of marriage and 5 years of 'living in sin' prior to that, making a silver jubilee of togetherness. Prem and Purnima carried 2 shocking heart-shaped balloons. ( It would have been great if one could get a Band-party in tow - but, the notice was just too short for doing anything more creative or dramatic ). But, the Ms themselves rose to the occasion brilliantly, as one would normally expect them to even if it was not their anniversary. After mild initial protestations - they produced almost instantly a neat pink ribbon tied knife (as if they had it ready all along). And, after the ceremonious cutting of the cake , all the other couples took turns (in the order of their seniority - starting with the parents, who were also present) to feed a slice to their respective spouses amidst the click of flash bulbs. Pity, the Blogger doesn't have a photo-gallery, yet.

True, these are times of momentous changes. But what about changing the Self ? Aha , that's not so easy ! The latest HBR ( nothing to with JBR - humro Jung Bahdurs, we promise ) has a very unusual article on "Change Management" - a conversation with the literary critic Harold Bloom. The piece is titled "A Reading List for Bill Gates - and You". Bloom talks of change and says change always arises out of the unexpected. It may be the unexpectedness of self-knowledge through over-hearing yourself or……..something imposed by external events. He makes a distinction between hearing oneself and over-hearing. In the latter you are unaware that, you are the speaker. It's a moment of literal non-recognition in which you're shocked to discover that you are speaking. That's when we learn about ourselves without self-consciousness. He recommends Shakespeare and Cervantes ( Don Quixote ) to all those who are not accustomed to speaking to themselves ( which he suspects is the case with the likes of Bill Gates ).

Bloom is, however, candid enough to admit that, although literature makes people more aware and acquire a broader range of sensibilities and thus increase our capacity for mastering change - it does not necessarily make us more moral. Some arty folks - who have the subtlest and most comprehensive consciousness are also the biggest scroundels on earth. Something, that Dubby and our 'hubby', would surely agree with.

And, if you were wondering where all this was leading upto - it's to S..'s latest find on the Amazon - Robert Wright's : The Moral Animal. After the Selfish Genes ( Richard Dawkins ) and the Red Queen ( Matt Riddley ), Wright is the latest to join the Darwinian band-wagon of evolutionary psychology throwing new light on the same questions: Are men literally born to cheat? Does monogamy actually serve women's interests? S…, of course, would insist that he reads such stuff only to 'understand' D's fatal obsession for D…, which was the root of his now "Famous Grouse" against the parents.

Back to Bloom again, he laments the decline of humanities by what he calls a curious amalgam of Feminism and Marxism. He talks about this young lady he knows, who is doing her Doctoral Dissertation at Yale on the history of representation of the female breast in English novels. So, look out for previews of Victoria's Secret in future editions of the Blogspot. That will be the ultimate cathartic experience, in the best of Blog traditions, guaranteed.

Memories at Random and Often Blemished

At last, thanks to Sudha Murty, the Ghoses Blogspot is getting interactive. The postings on the Ms of Infy have drawn sharp response from the non-millionaire wives' club. The V-s have written from Chicago : "Murthy's toilet cleaning habits have been oft quoted in press and frankly just serve as exercises in PR. As for me, I would rather go for the goblets of wine and morsels of whatever-you-call-it …. ". Mrs D from Ruislip, UK says - All this talk about put-on austerity makes me nauseate. But, the most spirited rejoinder came from the Chennai-wasi Amma . Here it goes unabridged and undiluted - complete with Molagu and Puli ( Pepper & Tamarind in Tamil ) to make a perfect Rasam:

"I was really curious to know what your friend found "inspiring"abt her life. I've always found them to be rather pretentious & their holier than thou attitude sickening. SM claims to run her household on 8K a month. Wonder how she manages to fit in the son's education into it-or am I not understanding the meaning of the word "budget". NM's "simple" façade obviously cloaks a shrewd & calculating brain. The media hype he manages to create is a lesson in itself for any aspirant seeking to be in the PR biz. It never ceases to amuse me that any article on him begins with the ubiquitous statement that he is media shy. For somebody who claims to be media shy, not a day goes by where there is not a major story on him & this is true of the national/Intl press, not just the local one. Also, full marks to him for successfully masking the fact that Infy is still a Co which still gets 80% of its revenues from body-shopping. The manner in which he orchestrates the media is something his peer Premji can learn from. Guess the parallel between SG & NM( vis a vis vision & zero capital )also drives home the point that while NM's risk-taking has catapulted him into the big league, maybe SG's caution finds him plateauing in Kats".

It probably just goes to show that , what glitters usually turns out to be either brass or copper and even if it is the 'real thing' has a generous dose of alloy mixed in it. This was once remarked about Meryl Streep - who for all her appearance of professionalism personified is supposed to be a savvy operator, when it comes to bagging the best roles.

Talking of Films, Anjalika ( the youngest of Sharma sisters )'s graduation film - 'Meena Jha' - has won the National Award (Rajat Kamal ) for the best debut and is getting rave reviews in the festival circuit. She is one of the first batch of students to come out of the Satyajit Ray Film & Television Institute ( SRFTI ), Calcutta. S.. - who played something of an internet postman in arranging the finance for the film - is upset that, his name doesn't appear in the 'credits' . He claims that, normally it is the "Producer" who gets the award and all the accompanying photo-opportunities ( especially, if it is a woman director ) and he, with his growing pot-belly and receding hair-line, would have perfectly fitted the bill of a sleazy 'financier' ( of the 'Bharat-bhai' kind ). As a minor concession, Anj has condescended to let him make a mention of it in the Blog.

We haven't seen the film yet - but, are quite impressed by the quotes attributed to the director. Didn't realise Mala's little kid sister has grown up so much - not just to make an award-winning film but to speak with such maturity. The reviewer in the Express writes: "Ayesha rides away to an escapist world …. Leaving everyone with a smile. With Meena Jha, we see our silly selves…. in every frame. Stories of memories, friendships and expressions… in a confusing world." Sounds bit like our Blogspot - or at least what we intended it to be in some sense - "memories at random and, often, blemished".

Jaya started her new school from today. After the trouble at Rupy's last month, we decided to play it safe and shift her to the Kendriya Vidyalaya at the Embassy. Contrary to our apprehensions, Jaya took the change quite easily in her stride. S.. recalled what a traumatic time he had when he moved from South Point to Don Bosco at the age of 10. It took him weeks to settle down. The next generation it would seem are much more practical about such things. Coming to think of it - this is Jaya's 5th change of school before she reached even Class 2. Guess she has little options - having been tagged onto such bohemian parents - or, that's what her grand-parents would say ( irresponsible, is the word they are more likely to use ).

Puppy Love, Millionaire Wives and Pandu Strawberries

The Ghoses are suffering from terrible television fatigue. Even Barkha ( Dutt ) couldn't relieve the monotony. All the entertainment channels have been taken off air and the remaining news channels endlessly re-cycle the same stories. These are again discussed over phone with friends - being stuck at home with the curfew, no one had anything better to do. And, the Internet only adds to the Cathode Ray over-exposure. By the end of the 3rd day, boredom levels had soared so high that, S… remarked - one more day of captivity at home and there could be many more mini-family massacres in the city. Mercifully peace seems to be slowly returning to our midst, as the men get back to work.

For a minor variation of theme, we had an addition in our neighbour's family and considerable excitement over the christening of the new acquisition - a Labrador pup. Choice of names ranged from Dopey to Snoopy. Jaya wanted one for herself and almost succeeded in convincing her Dad - among whose many 'loves' the canine variety was not to known to rank very high. But, such is the sway young daughters wield on their slavish fathers.

A friend has forwarded a short autobiographical sketch of Sudha Murty - wife of Narayan (Infosys) Murthy. ( He writes Murthy with a 'h', whereas she has dropped the 'h' from her surname. If it was for Numerological considerations then it certainly shows in the figures of Infy ) . Our friend wrote - take it up with some time in hand for it is an 'inspiring read'. Inspiration for whom - we wondered ? S… had displayed very similar competencies till we got married - loads of 'VISION' and 'ZERO CAPITAL' ( and, always making his girl-friends pay for the dates ). But, not sure where he lost track thereafter. Thank God, to use one of Jaya's favourite expressions ! Otherwise can you imagine N… having to give up buying Sarees for a lifetime and wait for kindly friends and relatives to gift them to her. Apparently, Mrs Murty vowed never to go 'shopping' as an offering of love to Lord Vishwanath, after she visited Varanasi . She must have had a lot to thank Him ( the Lord ) for but what a disturbing thought for the rest of us ordinary non-millionaire mortals.

Jokes apart, the Murty family is - for the lack of a better statement - 'different' ( and, shouldn't they be?). Recently, we met their son Rohan ( who according to the article was supposed to have had infantile eczema soon after he was born, but shows no signs of it today). He had come to stay with the Ramaswamys, as their son - Anand and he are soul-mates from school. He is going to Cornell for his under-grads - but has no absolutely no airs about it. ( Tho' he never mentioned his parents - he did talk about the 'son of the Satyam owner' who is at Kellogs. So, he is not entirely oblivious of the significance of 'lineage' - it would appear ). Anil asked him - what he plans to do after that ? He said, he won't return till he has completed his Phd and then would like to come back only to teach at Bishop Cottons, Bangalore - his old school. . Well, he probably would - as the son of Sudha & Narayana Murthy, he could afford to. There was one point, however, we couldn't understand - the Murthy's insistence on their kids to produce bills and vouchers for whatever they buy. We are not talking of trust here - it must be something deeper than that, which we are missing. Finally, we learnt that Sudha Murty is a fan of Hrithik Roshan and she went to watch "Kaho Na Pyar Hai" with her secretary. Whereas, Narayana Murthy had gone to see Titanic with his secretary. S… was ecstatic about this perfect arrangement and fantastic understanding between the couple until he discovered in the following lines - the name of Narayana Murthy's secretary is 'Pandu'.

Today, we had the first strawberries from N's experimental farm in the backyard. They looked luscious red - so what if the taste was somewhat closer to sour lime. Better than grapes anyday - since, this is probably the closest we shall ever get to living in Wimbledon or, for that matter, even Panchgani.