Feeling at home
Last thursday my masi (mother's sister) came to spend the day with me. Well, technically, I picked her up and brought her home. She visits her family in the US from India once every 2 years and stays for a few months at a time. And since her trip is now coming to an end, her visit to my home, as her second closest junior relative there, was long overdue.
And it ended up being one of the best afternoons I'd had in a long time, surprisingly. Now, I've never been close to my masi. She, being much elder than my mother, subsequently had children who were much older than me. Therefore, my memories of her home comprise primarily of afternoons spent in her sons' empty room, luxuriating in theie beanbag, smelling their colognes, going through their books, and admiring their simulated magazine covers with their faces pasted on the bodies of Hulk Hogan, George Michael (yes, Wham! was HUGE in India at the time!), eating Chewy chips ahoy! and pizza with imported mozzarella cheese. Also, the Kwality chocolate icecream at her house would taste so special, because it would be cut in general slices rather than scooped. (Trust me people, buy icecream in a cardboard box instead of a container and slice it with a knife. It's SO much better.)
Masi lived in a large house with a marble-tiled 1970's living room, with a dining table, a formal drawing section, and a balcony slightly elevated to tehr est of teh room where there were couches and a TV. The walls were covered by gorgeous Rajasthani Jaya Wheaton paintings, that still haunt that old house's erstwhile visitors and inhabitants.
I remember one time when I was a teenager. I was poking about in masi's room. (You seem, I have what miught be considered a rather invasive habit of looking at every framed photograph in every home in as many rooms as i deem polite to enter. However, albums rather bore me. i also, like a magpie, am drawn to pretty things. Perfume bottle, chintz, pictures, and jewelry have a big admirer, or rather, starer in me). Hence, i was studying her dressing table when i came upon these beautiful perfume bottles. the perfume bottle in question was shaped like a slim tulip bud and filled with an orange coloured pleasant fragrance. the bottle's cap was actually places in a stem with a leaf made of green plastic cocooning the perfume bottle. it was by far the most imaginative and elegant bottle i had seen! i asked masi if i could take it, and she generously let me have both the ones she had! i treasure these bottles today, and i simply do not want to use them for fear of finishing the lovely orange liquid. I am still waiting for an occasion that's special enough to use it!
I had also gone on vacation with her family once. Since she and I were the only people without spouses, we shared a room throughout the weeklong trip. And we fought every single day! She was a very fastidious person and i am rather less so, so nothing i ever did - not the way i put my clothes, or the time i woke up, was satisfactory for her. however, both of us would still be at the breakfast table earlier than everyone else, sneaking sweetmeats that we weren't allowed to eat! We were conspirators, you could say.
this, then, was the extent of my relationship with her. And had I not been married, It would have remained that. But somehow, the very fact of being married,a nd having someone from MY family visit, took on a new significance. I felt close to her in spirit, even though I was worried about being able to entertain someone who was essentially a senior citizen, simply because we were blood relations. So I had planned a whole day's worth of activities - breakfast, a visit to the Newark museum, lunch at home (Indian chinese made by yours truly) and a movie perhaps.
We ended up skipping the museum and going shopping instead. Instead of a traditional heavy Indian breakfast, she opted for my Chili cheese toast recipe. We went to watch Couples Retreat, which we both secretly hoped would be raunchy, but which ended up being sad, moralistic, predictable, tacky AND cheesy. She yelled at me for making noodles and rice and 2 vegetables, and she complained that i didnt let her buy me anything. But why would I, when spending time with her gave me the joy of experiences I havent had for such a long time? I went to watch a matinee during the week, I got lost in the suburbs AND didnt get yelled at, she offered to help me arrange my cupboards, gave me advice on marriage, and the last time i met her, we watched 3 movies back to back at the SAIFF! In fact, i think i have rather scared the poor woman with my extreme ennui!
Yesterday I went to visit her again. she made me kichu, a yummy riceflour paste, because i was hungry not having eaten my fill at lunch, with a group of slim and sexy women who did not clean their plates. I then took a nap. What bliss! Even though I am able to do this at home sometimes, I always feel guilty because my family doesnt, which spoils my rest and makes me bitter! It was the BEST nap i had had in a long time.
She will leave in 2 days. And I will feel sad because I will have lost a haven that I created out of blood and emotion.
And it ended up being one of the best afternoons I'd had in a long time, surprisingly. Now, I've never been close to my masi. She, being much elder than my mother, subsequently had children who were much older than me. Therefore, my memories of her home comprise primarily of afternoons spent in her sons' empty room, luxuriating in theie beanbag, smelling their colognes, going through their books, and admiring their simulated magazine covers with their faces pasted on the bodies of Hulk Hogan, George Michael (yes, Wham! was HUGE in India at the time!), eating Chewy chips ahoy! and pizza with imported mozzarella cheese. Also, the Kwality chocolate icecream at her house would taste so special, because it would be cut in general slices rather than scooped. (Trust me people, buy icecream in a cardboard box instead of a container and slice it with a knife. It's SO much better.)
Masi lived in a large house with a marble-tiled 1970's living room, with a dining table, a formal drawing section, and a balcony slightly elevated to tehr est of teh room where there were couches and a TV. The walls were covered by gorgeous Rajasthani Jaya Wheaton paintings, that still haunt that old house's erstwhile visitors and inhabitants.
I remember one time when I was a teenager. I was poking about in masi's room. (You seem, I have what miught be considered a rather invasive habit of looking at every framed photograph in every home in as many rooms as i deem polite to enter. However, albums rather bore me. i also, like a magpie, am drawn to pretty things. Perfume bottle, chintz, pictures, and jewelry have a big admirer, or rather, starer in me). Hence, i was studying her dressing table when i came upon these beautiful perfume bottles. the perfume bottle in question was shaped like a slim tulip bud and filled with an orange coloured pleasant fragrance. the bottle's cap was actually places in a stem with a leaf made of green plastic cocooning the perfume bottle. it was by far the most imaginative and elegant bottle i had seen! i asked masi if i could take it, and she generously let me have both the ones she had! i treasure these bottles today, and i simply do not want to use them for fear of finishing the lovely orange liquid. I am still waiting for an occasion that's special enough to use it!
I had also gone on vacation with her family once. Since she and I were the only people without spouses, we shared a room throughout the weeklong trip. And we fought every single day! She was a very fastidious person and i am rather less so, so nothing i ever did - not the way i put my clothes, or the time i woke up, was satisfactory for her. however, both of us would still be at the breakfast table earlier than everyone else, sneaking sweetmeats that we weren't allowed to eat! We were conspirators, you could say.
this, then, was the extent of my relationship with her. And had I not been married, It would have remained that. But somehow, the very fact of being married,a nd having someone from MY family visit, took on a new significance. I felt close to her in spirit, even though I was worried about being able to entertain someone who was essentially a senior citizen, simply because we were blood relations. So I had planned a whole day's worth of activities - breakfast, a visit to the Newark museum, lunch at home (Indian chinese made by yours truly) and a movie perhaps.
We ended up skipping the museum and going shopping instead. Instead of a traditional heavy Indian breakfast, she opted for my Chili cheese toast recipe. We went to watch Couples Retreat, which we both secretly hoped would be raunchy, but which ended up being sad, moralistic, predictable, tacky AND cheesy. She yelled at me for making noodles and rice and 2 vegetables, and she complained that i didnt let her buy me anything. But why would I, when spending time with her gave me the joy of experiences I havent had for such a long time? I went to watch a matinee during the week, I got lost in the suburbs AND didnt get yelled at, she offered to help me arrange my cupboards, gave me advice on marriage, and the last time i met her, we watched 3 movies back to back at the SAIFF! In fact, i think i have rather scared the poor woman with my extreme ennui!
Yesterday I went to visit her again. she made me kichu, a yummy riceflour paste, because i was hungry not having eaten my fill at lunch, with a group of slim and sexy women who did not clean their plates. I then took a nap. What bliss! Even though I am able to do this at home sometimes, I always feel guilty because my family doesnt, which spoils my rest and makes me bitter! It was the BEST nap i had had in a long time.
She will leave in 2 days. And I will feel sad because I will have lost a haven that I created out of blood and emotion.
posted by Princess Joya | 3:44 pm
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