'I dont want anything from the UK but my beautiful daughter'
Dad wrote this in an email.
I cant seem to forget these words.
He goes on to say:
'Just get here, and let the good times roll!
Get here and we will have a ball!'
I miss you my beautiful father.......
Friday, December 30, 2005
My beautiful daughter
The email below was a reply to one of the many panicked emails I sent to Dad last year in April. He was in India studying away while I was preparing to join him – to do my weddin shoppin, but of course! Why else would I wana go to India?! ;o)
Probably makes more sense if I type up my panicked questions first:
1. eeek – cant find any good beautician to do my make up on the wedding day!!!!!!! (a bride’s worst nightmare – only veteran brides will know how this feels!)
2. am worried bout spending too much of Dad’s money on my weddin stuff (being the wise and considerate daughter that I am! (o; )
3. My mom was worried that the photographer at the wedding (er......who happens to be my cousin) would not do a good job! (sorry Sarbjeet!)
4. Dad's givin Gurch’s dad some medical advice (afterall, he was the bested doc in the world!) ;)
The email just randomly appeared out of nowhere (hmmm...bizarre that!).
I remember now I had printed it out for Gurch and he just dint throw it away (thank God for that!)
(I spend hours sobbing like a lil wuss girl after i read it! what a wimp! hehe!) PS i hate crying!!!!!
I mostly wanted to post this on the blog so I can have an electronic copy.
Im trying to save everything Dad wrote – his precious words have so much more meaning now.
Well, Hello.
I haven’t been checking my e-mail since Sunday, since I thought all had been said and, now only remained to be done. Anyway, let’s take your points one by one.
1. Make up. We will find someone by hook or crook. Otherwise you can just look like a slag. Who is going to look at you?
2. Money. Just come. I think I could swing it, if you don’t go mad.
3. I’ll instruct Sarbjeet to photograph mom exclusively. You will suffer, but that’s all right.
4. I don’t know what mom said to Gurch’s dad, but tell him this:
I have showed his case to the doctors here. It is serious and not something to be taken lightly. If he wants to avoid surgery he will have to be very sure – it will need total commitment and strict diet and lifestyle change. Plus some long term medicines which could possibly clear the blocks. So it is very much up to him. I will wirte him a full report from Jallandhar, when I’ll have more time. At the moment things are hectic.
5. I don’t want anything from UK but my beautiful daughter.
Just get here, and let the good times roll!
Get here and we will have a ball!
See you soon.
Sant Sati
Thursday, December 29, 2005
GANPATI IN MUMBAI
THIS IS HILARIOUS!
Dad sent this email while studying in Bombay (Mumbai?)
Dear SR,
I had composed the following before I had read your message. Please accept it with my most humble apologies.
Dear SR,
At that dinner after the exams, you two looked so aghast, horrified and incredulous when I was talking about Himmat. Did you really think I was going to thrash him if he failed to fix your computer? Dead right I AM! You two are my personal deities and I worship the ground you walk on (not you, mind, just the ground). So of course Himmat deserves to be thrashed if he has the temerity to fail to fix your computer. Twice a day if you so desire.
PS Here is another silly e-mail I sent to Preeti. I was sending it to Sarita and Imtiaz because they insisted, so I am sending it to you too so that you can keep a check on me and censor me if I get too naughty in my youth. I don’t get a pipe shoved up my arse in this one, but then you can’t have everything all the time, can you?
02.09.01 8.22pm
Dear All,
There is a festival in Mumbai called the Ganapati Chaturatahi. It is celebrated all over Maharashtra, but it is particularly big in Mumbai. Why? Because the Indians are a very hard working people. I think. They work all the time, all hours of the day. Whenever you go out in the streets, you find them crowded, the shops open, and the hawkers shouting things like “Vada” or “Bhel Puri” or “Changamangvatanung” or similar nonsense. Then they get fed up of working so hard and grab any excuse to blow it. They particularly like Ganesh because he is such a roly-poly sort of laid-back devta, and brings them success in their endeavors. So at Ganapati they bring out the Ganesh moortis and put them on display. Some are small doll sized affairs, but some are absolute monsters – 10 metres high. They take a whole year to make. Then there are elaborate surroundings – castles and caves and palaces. This time there was an exact replica of Mysore Palace.
Monday, September 03, 2001 10:05 AM
They spent crores of rupees on these displays. They are so elaborate as to be mind-boggling. I saw one and my mind went “boggle boggle boggle”. I stopped seeing any more. The most elaborate and expensive displays are financed by the Mumbai Mafia Gangs. The best one this year was financed by “Chotta Raja” the notorious gangster on the run – he was reported killed by a rival gang (headed by the infamous killer “Daud”) in a grenade attack in Karachi – but he rang up the Mumbai Star News TV station from Singapore to reassure the public that he was all right, Ganesh was looking after him. The public needn’t worry about his health – he was fit enough to murder a few dozen more people any time. The public heaved a collective sigh of
relief and offered prayers of thanks to the statue of Ganesh (the one Chotta had put up at the cost of over a crore). This happens on a smaller scale all over Mumbai. The bigger the crook, the bigger the display.
They worship these moortis for 10 days and then they parade them through the streets with great pomp and ceremony. There is dancing, drum beating and colour throwing. The whole of Mumbai is brought to a halt. Anyone foolish enough to venture on the street in a car or taxi or bus is stuck in traffic for hours (min 4). They make their way to Chowpatti beach, where with great glee THEY DROWN GANESH! Thousands of Ganeshs are drowned, but they don’t seem to mind. They just ensure success in criminal ventures of the Mafia and lesser criminals for a further year. Sarbjeet, you are too cynical. Of course Ganesh rides a mouse. That is because the mouse is a docile creature and can be easily controlled. That is why Ganesh is the only God allowed in Mumbai traffic. Shiva with his bull has had his driving license withdrawn for causing major pile-ups, while Vishnu with Garuda, the bird, has had both his drivers AND his private pilot’s license withdrawn. Ganesh is also gentle and not headstrong like the other Gods. He has small eyes to examine everything minutely. He has large ears to listen to all the world’s woes. He has a big stomach because he keeps all the bad things inside and only speaks the good things. He has a big nose so he knows what anyone is cooking, and more importantly, where all the garbage dumps and shit houses are.
I bet you don’t have such wonderful creatures in Ilford, do you?
RSVP
Dad sent this email while studying in Bombay (Mumbai?)
Dear SR,
I had composed the following before I had read your message. Please accept it with my most humble apologies.
Dear SR,
At that dinner after the exams, you two looked so aghast, horrified and incredulous when I was talking about Himmat. Did you really think I was going to thrash him if he failed to fix your computer? Dead right I AM! You two are my personal deities and I worship the ground you walk on (not you, mind, just the ground). So of course Himmat deserves to be thrashed if he has the temerity to fail to fix your computer. Twice a day if you so desire.
PS Here is another silly e-mail I sent to Preeti. I was sending it to Sarita and Imtiaz because they insisted, so I am sending it to you too so that you can keep a check on me and censor me if I get too naughty in my youth. I don’t get a pipe shoved up my arse in this one, but then you can’t have everything all the time, can you?
02.09.01 8.22pm
Dear All,
There is a festival in Mumbai called the Ganapati Chaturatahi. It is celebrated all over Maharashtra, but it is particularly big in Mumbai. Why? Because the Indians are a very hard working people. I think. They work all the time, all hours of the day. Whenever you go out in the streets, you find them crowded, the shops open, and the hawkers shouting things like “Vada” or “Bhel Puri” or “Changamangvatanung” or similar nonsense. Then they get fed up of working so hard and grab any excuse to blow it. They particularly like Ganesh because he is such a roly-poly sort of laid-back devta, and brings them success in their endeavors. So at Ganapati they bring out the Ganesh moortis and put them on display. Some are small doll sized affairs, but some are absolute monsters – 10 metres high. They take a whole year to make. Then there are elaborate surroundings – castles and caves and palaces. This time there was an exact replica of Mysore Palace.
Monday, September 03, 2001 10:05 AM
They spent crores of rupees on these displays. They are so elaborate as to be mind-boggling. I saw one and my mind went “boggle boggle boggle”. I stopped seeing any more. The most elaborate and expensive displays are financed by the Mumbai Mafia Gangs. The best one this year was financed by “Chotta Raja” the notorious gangster on the run – he was reported killed by a rival gang (headed by the infamous killer “Daud”) in a grenade attack in Karachi – but he rang up the Mumbai Star News TV station from Singapore to reassure the public that he was all right, Ganesh was looking after him. The public needn’t worry about his health – he was fit enough to murder a few dozen more people any time. The public heaved a collective sigh of
relief and offered prayers of thanks to the statue of Ganesh (the one Chotta had put up at the cost of over a crore). This happens on a smaller scale all over Mumbai. The bigger the crook, the bigger the display.
They worship these moortis for 10 days and then they parade them through the streets with great pomp and ceremony. There is dancing, drum beating and colour throwing. The whole of Mumbai is brought to a halt. Anyone foolish enough to venture on the street in a car or taxi or bus is stuck in traffic for hours (min 4). They make their way to Chowpatti beach, where with great glee THEY DROWN GANESH! Thousands of Ganeshs are drowned, but they don’t seem to mind. They just ensure success in criminal ventures of the Mafia and lesser criminals for a further year. Sarbjeet, you are too cynical. Of course Ganesh rides a mouse. That is because the mouse is a docile creature and can be easily controlled. That is why Ganesh is the only God allowed in Mumbai traffic. Shiva with his bull has had his driving license withdrawn for causing major pile-ups, while Vishnu with Garuda, the bird, has had both his drivers AND his private pilot’s license withdrawn. Ganesh is also gentle and not headstrong like the other Gods. He has small eyes to examine everything minutely. He has large ears to listen to all the world’s woes. He has a big stomach because he keeps all the bad things inside and only speaks the good things. He has a big nose so he knows what anyone is cooking, and more importantly, where all the garbage dumps and shit houses are.
I bet you don’t have such wonderful creatures in Ilford, do you?
RSVP
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
Karma?
What is this....this karma?
'He bestows pain and pleasure, according to the deeds done;
the record of these deeds stay with the soul.
However:
'Those who see pain and pleasure as one and the same find peace;
they are peirced through by the shabad'
'He bestows pain and pleasure, according to the deeds done;
the record of these deeds stay with the soul.
However:
'Those who see pain and pleasure as one and the same find peace;
they are peirced through by the shabad'
Wednesday, December 21, 2005
Look what I did!
If you see a blobby blur - then you dont possess any vitally essential fine artistic skills whatsoever.
If you see a creative use of light, clever concoction of colours, imaginitive amalgamation of texture with reflection....then la di da you are way too arty farty!!
Spirits
'Angels can fly cos they take themselves lightly'Another one of my 'arty farty' shots.
This is a photography technique not many are familiar with.....
You chant some (highly classified top secret) mantras to evoke the lively lil ghouls and snap!
But you have to pay a fiver for every ghoul......bummer.....either that or they possess ya!
Let there be light
'After enlightenment, the laundry'
Here's one of my sad attempts at photography (borrowed camera, but ofcourse)
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
HOLY COW!
I think its about time i treated you all with another one of Dad's eccentric stories:
This will have you rolling on the floor!!!!!
HOLY COW!
Nutter’s Log, Star Day Monday, July 01, 2002
Was standing in a queue to buy a ticket at Borivali Railway Station. Two long queues at the ticket windows. Five dogs and three young boys sleeping on the floor on one side. Nothing much to distinguish one from the other.
This old geezer (not much older than me) at the head of my queue gets his ticket and turns. He opens his mouth for some reason – AND OUT POPS ONE OF HIS DENTURES and clatters to the floor several feet away. This is such an unexpected event that everyone is stunned and still for a moment. Not so one of the dogs known as Swift alias Rivaldo. He pounces, grabs the shinning denture in his mouth, and is off in a flash. The rest of the dogs, thinking he has secured a feast, set off to join him in his good fortune.
Utter pandemonium breaks out. "AAAGGGGNNN MAAARAAA DAAANTE" emerges from the old codger. He cannot speak with only one denture. He sets off in pursuit, encouraged and joined by the entire population within a half-mile radius.
Utter chaos ensues. A kind of rugby game develops. INDIANS v MANGY DOGS. 5000 v 5. I have never been so entertained. If only they could agree to some rules and strike a deal with B Sky B – these guys could make billions! The dogs were wily, agile, street wise and knew escape routes from seemingly dead ends. The Indians were incensed – they were not about to let these mangy dogs get away with the denture of one of their own – something he had probably spent five year’s savings on.
Utter chaos disappeared down the far end of Platform 1. I do not know what happened. I have a feeling the old codger won. He had that fanatic look in his eye. I bet he recovered his denture – albeit chewed up to resemble a canine denture. I bet he took it to a wayside denture repair man (such entities exist!), who probably held it over a lighted candle, hit it with a stick, scraped it with a piece of broken glass and handed it back to the old codger who probably popped it straight back into his mouth. The fitting was probably much better than before.
In the evening I was coming home after a fifteen minute Monsoon deluge. The road was flooded – a narrow strip of dry land in the middle and puddles on both sides. I was coming down this path, and a cow was going up the other way. One of us would have to step into the water. The cow had better equipment to do that. I decided to use my superior intelligence. I decided to use a diplomatic approach first – the English way (who could be more English than me?)
" How now, Brown cow?" I asked politely, trying to sound like Prince Charles and achieving 33.3% success. The look of the cow changed to one like the old codger had had. It probably didn’t understand English, I reasoned.
"Kaise ho, Khakhi gaooo" I enquired in my best Hindi. The cow increased its pace. It is probably from a rural area and does not understand the conversation of polite society, I reasoned.
"Kidan, DUNGARA!" I said in more down to earth Panjabi. The cow didn’t appreciate my grasp of Panjabi colloquy
I was thinking of something to say in Gujerati, which it was sure to know, when it passed me, pushing into a knee deep puddle with an effortless, imperceptive nod of its head. As it passed me – "THWACK!" – it got me on the forehead with its tail, which contained copious quantities of cow’s urine (Go-mutra) and cow dung (Go-shit) on it. Both these substances are thought to be very auspicious in Ayurveda, but to me they just seemed to be very degrading. "You have been blessed by the Holy Cow" exulted a passer-by. He beamed!
And so it goes. Just another boring day in Mumbai. I wonder when the interesting times will start. By Wednesday reckons Dr. Varma, who had a quick peek at the position of the planets. We shall see.
"Beam me up, Scotty" I ordered authoritatively (to Scotty up on the Starship Enterprise). Scotty ignored me totally. He beamed up the cow. Can’t say I blame him. The cow won.
This will have you rolling on the floor!!!!!
HOLY COW!
Nutter’s Log, Star Day Monday, July 01, 2002
Was standing in a queue to buy a ticket at Borivali Railway Station. Two long queues at the ticket windows. Five dogs and three young boys sleeping on the floor on one side. Nothing much to distinguish one from the other.
This old geezer (not much older than me) at the head of my queue gets his ticket and turns. He opens his mouth for some reason – AND OUT POPS ONE OF HIS DENTURES and clatters to the floor several feet away. This is such an unexpected event that everyone is stunned and still for a moment. Not so one of the dogs known as Swift alias Rivaldo. He pounces, grabs the shinning denture in his mouth, and is off in a flash. The rest of the dogs, thinking he has secured a feast, set off to join him in his good fortune.
Utter pandemonium breaks out. "AAAGGGGNNN MAAARAAA DAAANTE" emerges from the old codger. He cannot speak with only one denture. He sets off in pursuit, encouraged and joined by the entire population within a half-mile radius.
Utter chaos ensues. A kind of rugby game develops. INDIANS v MANGY DOGS. 5000 v 5. I have never been so entertained. If only they could agree to some rules and strike a deal with B Sky B – these guys could make billions! The dogs were wily, agile, street wise and knew escape routes from seemingly dead ends. The Indians were incensed – they were not about to let these mangy dogs get away with the denture of one of their own – something he had probably spent five year’s savings on.
Utter chaos disappeared down the far end of Platform 1. I do not know what happened. I have a feeling the old codger won. He had that fanatic look in his eye. I bet he recovered his denture – albeit chewed up to resemble a canine denture. I bet he took it to a wayside denture repair man (such entities exist!), who probably held it over a lighted candle, hit it with a stick, scraped it with a piece of broken glass and handed it back to the old codger who probably popped it straight back into his mouth. The fitting was probably much better than before.
In the evening I was coming home after a fifteen minute Monsoon deluge. The road was flooded – a narrow strip of dry land in the middle and puddles on both sides. I was coming down this path, and a cow was going up the other way. One of us would have to step into the water. The cow had better equipment to do that. I decided to use my superior intelligence. I decided to use a diplomatic approach first – the English way (who could be more English than me?)
" How now, Brown cow?" I asked politely, trying to sound like Prince Charles and achieving 33.3% success. The look of the cow changed to one like the old codger had had. It probably didn’t understand English, I reasoned.
"Kaise ho, Khakhi gaooo" I enquired in my best Hindi. The cow increased its pace. It is probably from a rural area and does not understand the conversation of polite society, I reasoned.
"Kidan, DUNGARA!" I said in more down to earth Panjabi. The cow didn’t appreciate my grasp of Panjabi colloquy
I was thinking of something to say in Gujerati, which it was sure to know, when it passed me, pushing into a knee deep puddle with an effortless, imperceptive nod of its head. As it passed me – "THWACK!" – it got me on the forehead with its tail, which contained copious quantities of cow’s urine (Go-mutra) and cow dung (Go-shit) on it. Both these substances are thought to be very auspicious in Ayurveda, but to me they just seemed to be very degrading. "You have been blessed by the Holy Cow" exulted a passer-by. He beamed!
And so it goes. Just another boring day in Mumbai. I wonder when the interesting times will start. By Wednesday reckons Dr. Varma, who had a quick peek at the position of the planets. We shall see.
"Beam me up, Scotty" I ordered authoritatively (to Scotty up on the Starship Enterprise). Scotty ignored me totally. He beamed up the cow. Can’t say I blame him. The cow won.
Monday, December 19, 2005
Im busy!
Im being hounded by various individuals - including my bro - cos i aint posted for a LOOOOOONG time!!!!....well.....um.......(ok - my deposit of witty excuses has run dry) so the truth shall prevail........IM LAZY!!!!! there! happy!
Oh and i been busy - yes....very busy.
This blog was started with a yearning to spread the beautiful light my dad ignited in us.
I feel i am not doing justice to him - this blog needs more attention (and masala!!).
Guys - u will be served more of dad's quirky anecdotes sooon!
Oh and i been busy - yes....very busy.
This blog was started with a yearning to spread the beautiful light my dad ignited in us.
I feel i am not doing justice to him - this blog needs more attention (and masala!!).
Guys - u will be served more of dad's quirky anecdotes sooon!
Thursday, December 08, 2005
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!!
Had a nice fun filled day on Dad's birthday.
Spent the day with mom...... shopping!
The evening promised a tasty treat!
Went to Chelsea for the classical Indian concert - with Sultan Khan on the sarangi and Raiz Khan on sitar.
Exellent concert - if slightly emotional!
im sure this is all probably in the head but the sarangi really reached out to me - almost as if Dad was talkin to me! weird,eh?! Raag Yaman - an evening raag, which im told is an unfathomable ocean!
Well, be it in the mind or not - Dad's presence was very strong in that vast music hall.
I couldn't help but think how lucky dad must be - i got the feeling that he is able to listen to all maestros perform throughout the world in numerous concert halls .......... without the need to fork out the all important £20 ticket!!!
Spent the day with mom...... shopping!
The evening promised a tasty treat!
Went to Chelsea for the classical Indian concert - with Sultan Khan on the sarangi and Raiz Khan on sitar.
Exellent concert - if slightly emotional!
im sure this is all probably in the head but the sarangi really reached out to me - almost as if Dad was talkin to me! weird,eh?! Raag Yaman - an evening raag, which im told is an unfathomable ocean!
Well, be it in the mind or not - Dad's presence was very strong in that vast music hall.
I couldn't help but think how lucky dad must be - i got the feeling that he is able to listen to all maestros perform throughout the world in numerous concert halls .......... without the need to fork out the all important £20 ticket!!!
Friday, December 02, 2005
HAPPY BIRTHDAY DADDY!!!!
DAD'S BIRTHDAY TOMORROW!
Hmmmm........i think i'll bake a cake! (My hubby thinks i should throw him a surprise party as well!! hahahaha!!!)
On a serious note - i dont think i should stop celebrating his birthday. We should have atleast one day in the year dedicated to him...... so we can celebrate his life.... be inspired by his achievements...... just be happy to have had him in our lives.
The boys are planning on going to a Sultan Khan concert - that would be appropriate - dad loooved classical music.
Hmmmm........i think i'll bake a cake! (My hubby thinks i should throw him a surprise party as well!! hahahaha!!!)
On a serious note - i dont think i should stop celebrating his birthday. We should have atleast one day in the year dedicated to him...... so we can celebrate his life.... be inspired by his achievements...... just be happy to have had him in our lives.
The boys are planning on going to a Sultan Khan concert - that would be appropriate - dad loooved classical music.
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