Dinner is served

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The dining is in continuation with the sitting area, and it also has the Temple wall while looking into the kitchen on the other side.  This allows for us to cook and have fun, even when there are many people around. If you remember, I mentioned that we have friends who love to cook and eat; well the last time they were around, we did just that. Six of us sat around the table, buttering breads, and singing loudly, while four of us danced around the kitchen while the food was prepared!

The dining is a very good example of how we used A’s family legacy. This wood is also a legacy of A’s ancestral home; cupboards, cribs, windows, benches used for making sev (dry snacks), and everything wooden lying in the corner room was put into a truck and brought here.

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Every once in a while A talks of this joIMG-20150612-WA0003.jpgurney. What he remembers the most is the road from the truck’s windscreen, moving through the dark night, only what was lit up by the headlights visible and stars peeking through the leaves of trees on either sides. Of course, most of the road had a lot of traffic and was more like playing videogame on big screen!

The dining table is wooden with two wooden benches.The wall behind the dining has two wooden ledges  initially meant to hold all sorts of condiments necessary to a meal, which is now represented by a couple of anchaar bharnis (ceramic pickle jars) we picked up from the street side on our way back from a road trip.

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There is a miniature brass tea set, and a brass cooking range with cylinder, a wok and a pressure cooker, the first thing we picked up when we went to shop for accessories and hardware fixtures for the home.

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A miniature brass panther leaping towards an invisible prey (from Cambodia), and a fiber baby elephant waiting for its mother on the kitchen ledge(previously introduced in the kitchen blog named “let’s cook!”) ridiculously co-habitat the dining ledge.

A couple wine bottles from the “sand and shell” upcycled series specially designed for a previous project, an old pic of baby A and his family, a red wooden oriental design bell and a small white bird cage that I picked up from Bandra, linking road while on a prowl with friends adds a little vintage romance to the ledge._DSC0323.JPG
The ledge also hosts timeless classics like a brass and glass hour glass, that we often use now while playing dumb charades or pictionary, a round marble table time piece with rajesthani enamel and stone work adding royalty and a small dark wooden jar from Siem Reap’s local market.

 

The dining table has a runner, which is what my mum and my aunt now love gifting us,and sometimes it is the Jaipur patchwork, sometimes brocade and sometimes handloom runner that brings in the flavor of the month. A random visit to a bamboo workshop en route Mumbai provided us with the triangular hot plate holders, which double up as gateways and tunnels for our toy cars and stuffed animals to pass through.

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There is some kind of flower arrangement on the table on most days, and it brings in a lot of warmth and cheer, a tray with black earthen glasses holding chopsticks encased in bamboo sleeves, and colorful glass bottles from Crawford market while on a client visit make up the rest of our dining space.

More often than not, the dining table is used by us for playing board games. My brother comes to India once a year, and he has to bring something for Ma and me. So he brings these really pretty wooden handicrafts for Ma, and for me he brings award winning board games that he has had fun playing with his friends; now our place has become a board games hub for all our friends, and we often end up playing into the wee hours of night, sitting around the table, fighting over whose turn it is, cheating a little and at the end of the game confessing to it; all in all, a lot of high energy with loud bouts of laughter, some cookies and milkshake around the table!!

Carefully crafted…

254526_10150288162500931_7915622_nWe were born in the age of telephones, and though our grandparents and distant uncles still wrote letters to us, we haven’t ever had to learn the art of letter writing. We didn’t have to. Whatever we wanted to say was just a phone call away. And the easier it became to make a call, the further we went to penning our thoughts down. We became careless about what we said and took offense on what we heard. There was nothing to fall back upon. Memories became distorted, till we found a way to store every moment of our lives in our pockets. Intimate moments needed to be picture perfect, like fairy-tales, and so we started to weave our moments around the picture. We became lesser than the moments captured, and feelings became a tool we played with..

It’s been some time now I’ve been wondering, how words used to cherish our feelings in those carefully crafted letters. Letters that we cherished all the more because of the long wait, the anticipation, looking for the postman every morning. Letter from your mother telling you about the nest in the courtyard tree, or your grandfather reminiscing about football with his brothers in the long forgotten village. The nostalgia of finding a yellow worn out letter in your favorite book with times long gone, but with the hint of rose.  Of all the arts dying in this world, the loss of letter writing is the close of an era.

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Kshanbhangur

It feels like a long time back now, during my school days, I had come across a short story in Hindi. I do not remember the name or the author of the story, or even its content. What I do remember is this word, “Kshanbhangur”, and I am haunted by it; not in a tormenting sort of way, but the word keeps popping up in front of me now and then, when I’m sad or happy or just excited. It gives me hope, stops me from putting everything in one basket, makes me smile, makes me be patient, and tells me to be cautious, all at once and separately as the situation arises.

“Kshan” means a moment; “bhangur” I think means fragile, or destroyable; hence the word “kshanbhangur” means that which lasts in the moment, and would be gone in the next. It is like all my relationships, intense when they last, but they fade away and leave me stranded. But the truth is, if I try to hold on to them, they become futile and troubled. What’s broken can’t be mended, the fault lines remains. Sometimes, they dissolve. You miss them, but you can’t have them back; they are gone forever, they remain in your memory alone.