Today has been a strange kind of a day. Right from the time I opened my eyes. The sprained but healing ankle, tingled today, unlike the past week when it felt perfectly fine when I woke up.
The next moment, I remembered I had a whole lot of things line up for today and I hoped that the tingling episode was just a 'one off thing.'
The son and the daughter in law had made plans to visit us, for 2 weeks just 2 days ago. Not having them around for nearly a year now, their space in the house had been duly encroached upon by me. A wardrobe , the writing desk.. the bed..everything. Anything which did not require immediate attention had been placed in that room and today, everything in that room demanded my attention.
To add to that, we had a small function to attend in the evening. It was a 'Kelvan' function, on the occasion of the wedding of a family friend's son. The Kelvan is a Maharashtrian function. Function/ ceremony... I am at a loss for the correct word here.
Poised on the top rung of a (very sturdy ) ladder, I was looking for the set of new pillows I had stored in the 'above the wardrobe' cupboard. My eyes fell on a small carton. It contained a stash of soft toys which belonged to the daughter.., a couple of dolls, doll house items, the doll's clothes, shoes and bags. She had long outgrown them but some toys never got discarded or given away. And then I am a hoarder. MY children;s toy's, my memories of my children's childhood. And my next thought was, 'If that stash belonged to the 2nd category - My memories of the children's childhood', - then I need to do a rethink. I should probably ask them to take a look and keep those that they have an attachment for. . Of their memories of their childhood.
I also did another rethink... probably it is time to release stuff which my own parents had saved and I had hoarded.. tangible objects -a little tumbler gifted by my neighbour when I was born.. a liitle steel plate, given by my aunt .. all bearing my name, and the date on which it was gifted, the story books which bears my name in my father's handwriting. These had given me a lot of happiness in my childhood,, to drink from my tumbler -' a gaddu', read My books...and then when I made my own family, it still gave me pleasure to feel those items in my parent's home and then again when I brought them into mine.
This 'mera tera' was going on in my mind and stopped only when I realized I had just about an hour to get ready and leave for the evening's do.
The evening started well. For a change, we started from home on time, little or no traffic for most of the part of our travel, finding a good parking spot.. it was just perfect!
Kelvan is a Maharastrian ceremony. A bride-to-be, or a groom-to-be and their respective parents are invited for lunch or dinner by close members of their respective families. In this case, all the siblings of the father of the groom-to-be, organised a dinner and hence a family get together. And we being family friends, got invited too. I love Maharashtrian food. Be it the typical Kokanastha Brahman fare, or the CKP fare. You have me on your side, at the Varan Bhaat. Pretty easy to please, I am.
. It had been years... decades .. since I had partaken of a proper Maharastrian festive meal.
So.. coming back to today...
Along with the kelvan, they also had the mehendi ceremony for the women folk.
I had an enjoyable time, (unintentionally) overhearing snatches of conversation.... the very familiar and the almost heart tugging "aggo baai" being said, the very fluent marathi being spoken... It gave me a high. I do not have much opportunity to speak a lot of marathi.. or hear the language being spoken with such fluency, where there are no english or hinglish words intersped. Then there was also that bit of nostalgia.
Why a kelvan? asked the husband. One of the ladies there, said "kaahi naahi ho, zara aapla kautuk karaaycha. Navar devaacha, tyaachya aai baabancha. Zhaala. evdhach.' she said.
Soon there was a much excitement in the room and a bit of a hustle and a bustle. Tables were drawn together. The mandatory disposable roll of 'table cloth' unrolled. Chairs were set in place. On one side, a chair for the groom-to-be and on either side of him, a table with 2 chairs. One his left, sat his parents and to his right, his eldest paternal uncle and aunt.
A silver taat was placed before him- a taat is different from a thaal or thali which we see in restaurants serving thali meals. A taat is a plate alright, but the edges are not straight but at an obtuse angle, outwards. Will attach a picture of the same. A taat is always accompanied by vaati or "vaatya' when there are many. A vaati is a small bowl.
The silver plate and bowls were in honour of the groom-to be. The parents and uncle and aunt were served in steel taats and vaatis.
The ladies got busy placing a ' reusable' rangoli, - bits of colored acrylic sheets, embellished with zari, mirrors and fancy crystals in various colors. These were arranged around the taat of the guest of honour of the day. Next they placed a few bright artificial flowers, around the plate. An incense stick was placed next to his taat.
An aunt of the groom-to-be., now stepped forward and applied kumkum tilak and a spot of chandan, on the foreheads of the men folk at the tables and she then sprinkled a few vermilion coated grains of rice , 'akshata' , on them.
The serving staff then took over. Ceremoniously they placed various food items, on their plates, beginning with the guest of honour .
Salt, a wedge of lemon, pickle, kothimbir (coriander) chutney, koshimbir ,, puris, a poli (chapati), talalela papad (fried papad) were served in the taat. Then the vaatis began to be filled. Dalimbi usal, Aluchi paatal bhaaji as it is referred to respectfully, else it has another name which had always caused us children to burst out in laughter, while the elders lifted an angry eyebrow - alu cha phadphada. This colocasia leaves curry was a mash of the leaves, spiked with tamarind, coconut, peanuts, and was of a thickish consistency. Thickish consistency .. hence the name.
The other vatis were filled with a Panchamel bhaaji, a rose petal Shrikhand and a ukadi cha modak. The pillowy soft, very white modak was delicately jabbed with a knife and a generous spoon of 'toop' - clarified butter, was ladled over it.
Then followed a scoop of rice - bhaatachi mood(h) as it is called. It is a serving of rice, placed in a small bowl, lightly packed and then upturned. The server holds several such scoops on his serving plate and gently slides one in the taat. Once it is topped with the yellow varan (daal) it makes for a pretty sight. Once again 'toop' is drizzled on it.
The servers served all the others seated at the tables. A sort of a mini 'pangat' .
Vadani kaval gheta - a verse/shloka recited before every meal - was recited .. and they commenced their meal.
For others, the buffet was declared open.
Now that I had seen the food served... I marched to the food counter. Drooling, almost!
Chutney, koshimbir, varan bhat, shrikhanda (yes yes,,rose petal shrikhanda,,), puri to go with it. I gave the chapatis a miss. I had spotted the Masale bhaat and made a dash for it. Haughtily, i turned away from the Panchamel dal, and helped myself to the alu chi paatal bhaaji instead. And then the daalimbi usal.
I quitened my mind and conscience and picked up a fried papad. And then that ukadicha Modak. The same ritual was followed by the server as he placed it in my plate- a jab at the Modak and a good drizzle of toop.
As i settled in my chair I realized I had forgotten to pick up a wedge of lemon...i had to have my ' 'varan bhaat , toop , mith , limboo '. Seeing that the husband had 2 wedges in his plate ..i picked up one.
My eyes welled up as i took a spoonful of the meal .and then another .
It was a homely meal. Many of these, are cooked in my kitchen whenever I have a craving for them. But all of these together on a plate...waaaah!!
For every item on my plate..I had a story.
अगं asha कोथिंबीरीच्या चटणीत जराशी साखर घालावी..this tip was from Rao kaku , my neighbour and friend who was in her eighties
अळू ची पातळ भाजी करताना पानां बरोबर शेंगदाणे ही शिजवावेत. सुक्या खोबऱ्याचे. पातळ काप करावेत आणि हलकेच भाजून घालावेत..Rao kaku
मोदकाची उकड करायला पार्ल्यातील विजय स्टोअर मधून मोदकाचे पीठ वेगळे मिळते. बासमती तांदूळ. कुठलं ही तांदूळ पीठ घेऊ नकोस -.Nayak kaku.. another aunty and dear friend frm the building
अगं डाळइंबी उसळ काय...आम्ही सीकेपी , daalimbi चा भात ही करतो ...तुला पाठवीन करून. -Nayak kaaku again
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Daalimbi usal . ...how can I describe what it tasted like, man. It was like eating काज्जु बी. Well cooked dalimbi..yet retaining a crunch. Spiced..yet you couldn't taste any उग्र spices. - this was my father. He had his memories of eating this usal in his bachelor days..when he first came to mumbai. I forget the place he would mention.
The masale bhaat..it always tastes distinctly different when it is made at a wedding or a function as opposed to what it tastes when made at home. This is true of the भजी / pakoras too,when served at a wedding . It's probably the taste and fragrance of a lot of oil heated at high temperatures. .yes. that oil has a taste and a fragrance unique.
The varan bhaat ..me as a school girl, coming home at lunch time..picking up my plate and rushing to my neighbour's home..to aai' s home..aai, जेवायला वाढ. ,And she would serve me varan bhaat and the bhaaji of the day. My mother , embarassed at this antic of mine..on a daily basis.. would sometimes send me with my share of rice from my home, only to have aai at our doorstep.. काय हो हेगडे बाई..कसला मोठेपणा दाखवता आशुचा भात पाठवून..चालणार नाही हे. . जेवेल पोर आमच्याकडेच. And she would continue her rant.. saying to me...kaay समजते ग आम्मा तुझी..
So many memories...so many people .who were part of my life..at various times.. various stages ..who had showered me with affection..held me close...
All these thoughts raced through my mind as I ate each morsel.
"अगं कामत काकूंना आग्रह कर.".said one of the senior ladies there to the sister of the groom- to-be. " हा मोदक घ्या..गरम आहे" she said .
Little did she know..garam or cold..nothing mattered. Aagraha..i didn't require it...I was content. Overwhelmed.
This Kelvan function..was all that every family function could be. Simple...dripping with warmth..Lots of love..for every member of the family and lots of love for the others.
Kya hai na... we all have our bundles of memories. Kisika badaa,, kisika chhota. some happy some sad memories... Nostalgia !
And sometimes when one sees the happy memories. play out once again, inadvertently.. senti hona toh banta hai.
