gujral dinner (our home.) prep for dad's birthday gala. things in between.

The following weeks have been rather busy. Being invited over for dinner at the Vimal Uncles home one night, then reciprocating the invitation the following night- a few days (which felt like moments) to take a quick breath... and then preparing for a huge gathering of people (just about the entire town recieved an invitation..) for dad's three day birthday gala! Must be nice turning 61! Lunch today with my immediate family, the Hawan (blessing of the new house,) tomorrow and then the birthday festivities on the 28th!

This is what I have been waiting for. The climax...

enjoy the photos.

dinner.


home.


saisha doing jeh jeh! ha.


two families. lounging.



from left to right. gautam. vimal uncle. kshama masi.


from left to right. manan. gautam. micky. puja aunty. smrithi bhabi. dad. behind. kshama masi & mum. dinner with the gujral family. (our house.)


helping in the kitchen.



fresh produce.



again. fresh produce.



and again. fresh produce.


preparations for dad's birthday gala.


again. preparations for dad's birthday gala.

the gujrals.

Whenever I travel to India, parties are held at various venues hosted by the sundry of families within a very close knit community of family and friends. These get-togethers range from quiet more intimate settings to lavished galas that could easily rival presidential balls- (without the uninvited guest that is..… haha, to soon?) The food is always prepared with the highest caliber of skill and ingredients which also is kept plentiful for each guest to have there fill. The company is friendly and eager to mingle with friends who have come from across the street, the States, or far away parts of India and Asia. One of those families- the Gujral’s, humbly invited my family and I for a night of cold drinks, better company, and great food (wait till I talk about the prawns.) Vimal Uncle, Pooja Aunty, Micky (the oldest of the two brothers), Smriti (Micky’s wife), Saisha (Micky and Smirtha’s beautiful 11 month old daughter), and Gautam (the younger brother.. obviously) graciously hosted a quiet but entertaining dinner for our two families earlier this evening.

The real beauty of the occasion comes with the fact that the dinner was not planned months, weeks, or even days prior to today- Smriti bhabhi (pronounced “bah-bee” translates to “sister in law”) and Saisha dropped by today for a quick visit to chat with my mother and to simply say hello to the family. Mind I have never met bhabhi till this afternoon, she already “knew so much about me” from stories I have assumed my mother has told in my absence. In the midst of playing with and watching Saisha do “jeh-jeh” (prayers) at the foot of the giant Ganesh statue in the foyer, and the chatter in the background, mum had informally invited the Gujral family over for dinner at our home. However, the invitee quickly became the inviter and insisted we join them for dinner instead. Mum happily accepted.

We arrived a few hours later to the Gujral residence to be greeted by the family. After a few familiar pinches and hugs from aunty and the rest of the family, the boys (my brother Manan, Kaushal, Micky, Gautam and I) sat by a well designed bar tucked under a grand staircase of white marble- while aunty, uncle, mum and pops sat in a nearby sitting room- Seeing Micky and Gautum after so many years (five or six years) there were many discussion topics covered- from my education, Tiger Woods the new “player of the year”, politics, to lifestyle (sounds boring- but nothing is ever boring with this family!) Gautum politely asked if I would like a glass of 18 year Glennfiddich single malt, but when I saw a bottle of Jack Daniels- I couldn’t resist- Two ice-cubes- a perfect pour of “JD” mixed with Thumb’s Up (India’s cola/ super delish) and I was ready to go (classy??... Indeed!) With the chatter in the background- lighting perfectly set- food being prepared in the kitchen perfuming the air- and Saisha’s occasional grunt or giggle- The stage was set for an amazing evening..

The prawns.. Vimal Uncle’s recipe for prawns have be consistently delicious for as long as I can remember, so naturally when they came to the bar piping hot with bouquets making my brain nearly short out- I was entering culinary bliss. It has always been said that smells correlate with memories. In this case I couldn’t agree anymore. I was taking back to every gala I could remember in India since I was 5 with these little bites of awesomeness. Seasoned and fried to perfection- I indulged… popping these things were as simple and guilt free as taking 4 advil instead of two. With the appetizers coming by the plateful- the night continued- at one point as I watched my empty glass with reminents of an ice cube melting and mixing with the jack and cola I thought about how comforting it was to be with family friends- the feeling of respect and love was unconditional- and well.. simply amazing. An hour passed quicker than I have ever remembered it too and before I knew it- it was time for dinner- Chicken braised in a spicy curry, panner with vegetables, potatoes and spinach, hot roti smothered in ghee (clarified butter), rice and cooked lentils were all on the menu! Dinner as I expected was amazing- Never mind the fact my stomach had already reached it’s limit after the 142nd prawn… The experience ended with both the families sitting, reminiscing, and viewing old photo albums- with Saisha immune to feeling sleepy and my eyes growing heavy as each minute passed, we called it a night with our stomachs full and smiles on our faces.

north and south india. the sparknotes.

I was going to spend day after day writing blog after blog explaining the in’s and out’s of my travels through north and south India; through the bumpy roads of the north that nearly gave me an anxiety attack- to the heat and humidity of some of the south- the choirs of crickets in Ahmedabad, applause of each waterfall in Munnar, the fighting sequence of the Thekkady warriors, the aroma’s of various spices in the air of Cardamom County, the tranquility that followed each sunset, the slow rock that put me to sleep in our house boat, the bottle of that pink minty stuff for the weak stomachs, and the melody of flavor in each and every bag of Lay’s Magic Masala potato chips- this here… sums it up.

enjoy-

a bit of this. and that.

Since my last post things have been relatively slow around here- waking up bright and early to either our two dogs (did I mention we have two German Sheppard) Simba and Nala (haha not my idea I SWEAR!) barking or the workers in and around the house drilling, hammering, sanding, or applying the minor touches to the new house- with the weather this week being unusually hot (for winter) I have been limited to staying indoors during the day, and occasionally playing cards on the outdoor patio during the cooler evenings. Lunches as always- are served at or around two. As I count the final days till the rest of the family gets here, I have been growing more and more restless- the house feels empty with Kaushal and Kshama Masi (his mother/mum’s sis/my aunt) gone to Mumbai (Bombay) for a couple of days-Koki Masi has been having some shoulder trouble so she spends most of the day at a nearby clinic for some kind of therapy- Leaving my mum, dad, the workers and I to either do nothing- or watch the next American movie that comes on television- Shouldn’t I be doing something more productive with all this time (does this count??) anyway- just wanted to pass some time by doing another one of these- posted are more pictures of lunches, and more of the house as promised earlier. Enjoy!

Giant Buddha head outside the front door.

Unfinished Garden- outside the formal dining room.

Outdoor Patio.

My bedroom.

Brother's Room

Theather.

Statues.

Sitting room outside my parents room.

Master Bedroom.

temples. beaches. (cliff faces.) sunrise. to sundown. pt 3.

Some roads in India aren’t the very best. Actually, I take that comment back- the roads in India are so unbelievably bad, I would rather walk barefoot on hot coals than sit in a vehicle for 10 hours constantly bumping around the terrain as if it were the moon and the vehicle were a golf cart. It was this point of the journey where my patients grew thin- “Don’t worry, we’ll be there in 30 minutes” proclaimed my mother 30 minutes ago- I slowly could feel the anxiety building inside me like a shaken bottle of champagne-

I simply wanted to burst, just wanted to scream, blow some steam, you know, let loose for a second. The cool air from the air conditioned car had no effect as I could slowly feel beads of sweat rolling down my forehead, my hands grew clammy as I held them together.. I decided I would meditate (I know what your thinking, me meditate- ha! a joke right!?) well call it what I you want- I laid my head back, shut my eyes, and held on for dear life- thinking pleasant thoughts and on the way to my “happy place I realized I felt- NO relief-

it was official. This was my nightmare. My mother became the devil, my masi’s (aunts) the people who poke you with sticks in hell- my cousin Kaushal and I… prisoners! Mum, Kshama Masi and Koki Masi were having a blast at the expense of our misery- Occasionally the bump in the road was so large it caught everyone off guard and had a reciprocating effect- instead of melancholy it became comical with everyone in the car laughing so hard they either defecated or lacrimated (cried people.. cried..)

Eventually we made it- Narayan Surover- a small town, nothing major except for atop a hill was tucked another temple- at first glance I could understand why people would merely pass by without ever experiencing what it was hiding behind it.. walking up- we approached and entered, passing through old hallways we reached a small courtyard where a tree was/is growing, small trinkets, and coins had been left at the base of the tree by previous visitors as a token of good faith- as we headed towards the back- what we found was… breathtaking….- hundred foot cliffside drops with views of the Arabian Sea, the wind was blowing swiftly, pigeons flying without worry- around and into this open air temple- and finally in the distance- Pakistan…. Remarkable.

With our journey over- and the sun setting- it was time to make the trek home- see you tomorrow.


“He who does not travel, does not know the value of life.” -Jack Kerouac

temples. (beaches.) cliff faces. sunrise. to sundown. pt 2.

The beaches of Mandhvi were like none I’ve seen before- it was almost surreal seeing that amount of water and sand- with no bikinis, board shorts, rainbow umbrellas, noses smeared with sunscreen, children building “sand mahals,” frisbees and footballs being thrown and how could I forget, the elderly taking walks with outdated tennis shoes and plastic visors (you know.. you know….!-) The sun, as always shining strong, casted its reflection on the mirror like surface of the Arabian Sea.. perfect for a wedding proposal, maybe even a cliché beach wedding itself wouldn’t you say?! Crossing over a bridge- we passed over the boatyards- never have I seen ships being created the way they were here, (oldschool)- something straight out of that Hollywood hit about a Trojan Horse with that hunky Hollywood A-lister, again- a spectacle to remeber.

"There are no foreign lands.. It is only the traveler who is foreign." -Robert Louise Stevenson

(temples.) beaches. cliff faces. sunrise. to sundown.

Traveling through underdeveloped areas can test a person’s aptitude to “deal” quite a bit. Yesterday, I had taken such an examination while traveling north, northwest to the India- Pakistan border stopping along the way for little sight seeing. My mother, two aunts, Kaushal (remember..? the cousin), and I began our journey leaving Gandhidham relatively early, our first destination was reached within the first hour of our travel.

The Jain temple of Bhadreshwar- after a massive earthquake in 2001 devastated much of the area we were in as well as neighboring regions, the original temple was destroyed along with a significant portion of the complexes buildings. Over the next couple of years construction started into building a more impressive structure- in these photos you can truly appreciate the grandeur and detail paid to hand carving each design, religious idol, and pillar that were laid so beautifully. However, you can still see the metaphoric scars from the ruins left caused by the quake in the surrounding scenery (which only goes to prove the, “when you fall, you must get up” theory.)


I remember at one point being so dumbfounded at what my eyes were seeing, I thought to myself “…you really can’t go out and buy this prepared now can you!?” Wearing shorts yesterday- I was denied entry to entering the temple, whilst my mother and aunts proceeded inside, I did take the moment to snap a couple photos- you should have seen the faces of the local men and women as they observed me snapping away- It was as though I painted on a white face- and stamped “American” or “National Geographic” on my forehead. After a quick bite to eat- we again were on our way to our next objective.

"Here among the constant ruins and rebuilding of civilizations lie the coexistence of diversity and intolerance." -David K. Shipler

another day.

Just another day here, mornings are beautiful- light blue cloudless skies at dawn with wisps of smoke that seemed painted on the skyline from remnant fires Evenings- cool and calm- an occasional honk of a car’s horn or a stray dog barking for mysterious reasons may be some of the sounds you may hear, but as the night sky darkens and the cool Indian breeze wraps around your neck.. I tell you are truly amazing. (Poetic aren’t I?) Afternoons however- HOT! For those who wish to prolong that orange glow with over priced tanning lotion which scent resembles nothing of a tropical fruit- made in the slums of Guatemala… India is the place for you!
Today was a pretty uneventful day- lounged around the house- did that facebook thing, haha- had to check on my crops on FV!! Nonetheless I’ am starting to miss the small things back home. Being able to “phone a friend” because the million dollar question was “What are you doing tonight?” actually was an option. I know this is only the preliminary stages of this voyage and there will be a lot of experiences that will give me stories to tell for years- but for the time being, this down time is beginning to get a little monotonous.

Above and to the left are a few pictures I took from today’s lunch FEAST! For all you foodies out there, it was (as always, delicious!) Roti, a few different vegetables, that crisp tomato salad I mentioned in an earlier entry, amongst other incredible traditional Gujarati dishes. When a meal and the venue it is consumed are as complete as the ones we have been having here, things just seem to fit. My aunts laughing in the background- my cousin and I poking fun at whatever we can- my father trying to stay indifferent at the all the ridicule only wanting to burst out in laughter.. all together create a symphony even Johann Sebastian Bach could not refute.

"...The perfect meal, or the best meals, occur in a context that frequently has very little to do with the food itself..." -Anthony Bourdain

get your culture on.

Today isn’t my first day in India this time around it’s actually my third. However, it is my first time in a home that is/will be accommodating for three families! Cooking in an Indian home is comparable to those families of Italian or even Greek ancestry; it is and always has been a family affair- not only do we like cooking great tasting dishes, but we LOVE eating them as well! Mornings normally consist of a light breakfast- savory breads, spiced tea (chai), and puffed biscuits to accompany the chai- the Indian equivalent of tea and crumpets perhaps? Occasional mornings, the kitchen is filled with the aromas of cumin seed bubbling in a oiled tawa (pan), along with turmeric, onion, ginger, garlic, tomato, and cilantro which primarily makes up the base of a savory egg dish paired with buttered toast and chai.

Lunches however….. are a completely different story- after breakfast and a blink of an eye, preparation begins for lunch. Vegetables are delivered by the closest vendor to guarantee fresh produce- our cook begins prepping for several different dishes required for an adequate lunch. Flour is bound with oil, water and salt to create dough used for creating roti (thin unleavened flat bread.) Assorted vegetable are cut, washed and paired with appropriate spices to create a plethora of different robust flavors that are complemented with each diverse bite.

Salads of fresh tomato, onion, cucumber, cayenne pepper, lime juice, and salt are almost always an complementing attendee of an Indian lunch- if you have not gotten the point yet…. Lunches here…. are simply remarkable! Furthermore, lunch is ALWAYS followed by an afternoon siesta (nap for those Spanish illiterate.) Dinners are simple- something light, typically savory… and after that you ask? Maybe a little socializing with guest who spontaneously arrive that evening; possibly a “harmless” card game with an aunt who raids you out of 1500 rupees, or perhaps reminiscing memories long forgotten with your parents and other family members- as for me however… its time for bed!



“Culture is the sum of all the forms of art, of love, and of thought, which, in the course of centuries, have enabled man to be less enslaved” -Andre Malraux

i told you. hard work. pays off.

This is only a preview- more to come later!
stairwell- you can only wish to see the 2nd floor.

1st floor looking up to the 2nd.

painting above the main dining room.

dining room. doors open to outdoor garden.

sitting room left of entry. glass ceiling.

exterior.

"Victory is sweetest, when yov've known defeat." -Malcolm Forbes

hard work. pays off.

Today, my cousin and I had the chance of visiting/ revisiting my father’s place of occupation here in India; for as long as I can remember I have always known it as “The Salt Works,” the place in India my father would travel to once, rarely twice a year for a couple of months to check up on, contrary to my childhood assumptions I learned today, the salt flats- where raw salt is harvested is officially known as “Gayathri Salt Suppliers” and the factory in which the salt is converted to consumer goods is known as “West India Sea Brine Pvt. Limited;” mind blowing wouldn’t you say!?

Sometime ago this whole salt thing started- now, decades later- I am more than reaping the benefits. My father spent the afternoon answering question after question. “So how does _____ work?”, “what is the profit margin in this industry?”, “where are all the laborers?” were only a fraction of the questions my cousin Kaushal and I asked. After spending a couple hours touring the landscape- I caught myself realizing that each “pan” or flat of salt was quite majestic, it seemed as though mounds of diamonds lay sparkling at the edge of each pan not sodium chloride- with the sky absent of any clouds and the sun swallowing the scenery, it truly was a sight to see.

After navigating ourselves through the traffic of India- similar to playing the 1981 arcade game frogger, we made our way to West India Sea Brine Pvt. Limited (the refinery,) Pops, Kaushal, and I made our way into the factory and were immediately subject to the worker curiosity and conversations. I snapped a couple pictures of the packing line and continued onwards with our (re)tour, being my second visit it was only a matter of minutes before I wandered off outside while dad spent more time explaining the mechanics of the factory’s equipment and the logistics of the factory itself. Snapping more pictures here and there… I finally…. snapped the one I wanted….........

A picture is worth a thousand words- cliche....? indeed i know.. but how else can you explain this?

(Whats inside this door to the right will be my nxt entry!)

“What we really want to do is what we are really meant to do. When we do what we are meant to do, money comes to us, doors open for us, we feel useful, and the work we do feels like play to us.” -Julia Cameron