This Weekend
Streaks of a full fledged Ob-Gyn PG were appearing. Though unwantingly, I was turning into a screeching and screaming person in the Labour Room at the Primary Health Centre, Moodbidri. I could not help it because everything I had seen and learnt back at Mangalore was drastically different. Now I was in another time zone. I was left alone with the Dai, far away from civilization with very untamable and very pregnant ladies.
Amma and Pappa decided to visit me for the weekend. They reached by Saturday noon. She was disgusted to see that I had lost more weight after a week of viral. That is enough to make my tendons jut out and make me look like all bones. Since I had one more hour of duty left, I sent them to see Soan’s farm. It is about 5 Km from the PHC. It has exotic fruits and flowers grown over 100 acres. It is also a delight for bird watchers. It is the kind of a place which people like Raghu Mama would dote on. They were supposed to pick me up at one and drive back to the flat. Meanwhile I called up room mates to get rid of scandalous items and straighten my mess a bit.
The drive made me a little queasy but I tried to distract myself by drooling over the goodies. It was much better than the bus rides though. It had rained last night and the Ghats were green and pretty. We reached in forty minutes.
Br was home already. Ma started unpacking. She launched herself in the kitchen and starting making a quick meal. I had hot rice and poppu with ghee. I ate till a point where one more morsel would have made me vomit. That is how I eat when I like what I am eating. A lot. Else I do not eat at all. Eating for me is more for the taste rather than satisfying hunger. So, one cannot judge my appetite by looking at the quantity. There was a bright yellow bed spread with printed pink and blue flowers spread over my bed with pillows pushed into matching covers. Floral patterns are my favourite. We napped for a while. Dr also came back by then. Pa and I went for a walk to have coffee at the Darshini and gave an ultimatum to everybody to get up and get ready by the time we returned. We went to Blueberry Hills and sat on a rock to enjoy the weather and the tiny multiple lights from the industrial estate. We were giving them the latest college, hospital and friends updates. They were giving us back interesting family gossip. Ma was getting restless and wanted to get back. It was very dark and she thought there was nothing great about the place. We teased her that she is just disappointed that dad did not do for her what SRK did at such a place in Rab ne bana di jodi. She was very keen to go for the Gruha Shobhe exhibition in Mangala stadium. We did a lot of window shopping and trinket shopping. The usual routine. How I love such expeditions. We got back home and Ma made dosa, chutney and potato curry for dinner. She had carried the batter from home for which dad would have surely rolled eyes and called her twenty funny names.
A lazy Sunday morning followed. Dr left early for her NICU duty. Br and I were free. We went for a walk and coffee again and brought back some groceries. Ma made gunthupanglas and groundnut chutney for breakfast. I feasted on those. It was turning out to be a weekend flooded with my favourite things and people. We played carrom. Dad was showing off his stunning shots and tricks. Mb also came home after his duty. We giggled and chattered away into the game till lunch was ready. They had got dhal and coconut holige. Those were served with hot milk. Then there were pooris, mango puree, potato in a tomato-onion based gravy, rice, drumstick sambhar, curd and sago payasam. All of us had multiple gastrointestinal orgasms. Br had downloaded Koncham ishtam koncham kashtam. We arranged the laptop, beds and cushions and set the atmosphere right for the matinee show. Dad did not sleep through it. So you can imagine. The time, the ambience, the people had already gotten me high. I was rolling over and laughing for some brilliant jokes. Now I wonder if it was really that funny. There were constant comments and laughs. Specially at the typical Andhra Telugu dialogues.
We decided to go to Mudipu after that. The weather was perfect. So was the mood. It was about to rain. It was fresh green everywhere. The radio was playing appropriate music. Ma kept telling that this is why she insists on coming to Mang in the car. We were giving her lengthy compliments for her foresight. She did not mind any of the pun. There is a church which looks like Delhi’s Baha’i temple. Plus it is also located amidst hills, forests and fog. We clicked pictures, lit candles, prayed and prattled incessantly.
We got back home and tried to live stream the IPL finals. Earlier when we had stopped at a pastry shop, I was telling Br and Dr about which flavour cake they should order for my birthday this year. Mom demanded that we discussed her cake first since her birthday is closer. Then she said we better get her garlic bread instead. Such is her lovesickness for Pizza hut and its vittles. So before they left I wanted them to have pizzas. The match had begun. So we decided to order for delivery. But it was Sunday evening and it was pouring. So I ordered over the phone and then went and collected it. We gorged.
I wasn’t even interested or aware about how IPL worked, how the money is generated, why it is fun, how it can be interesting when there are players from different countries in the same team, whom to support, who the players are, etc. I was slowly getting into the flow and supporting Bangalore big time. I even had plans to call my Andhra cousins and hee hee haw at them after we won. I got very very sad when we didn’t and also angry that something whose existence I was oblivious to, hours ago, made me upset. I tried to console that Telugu is my mother tongue after all.
They left early in the morning. Before leaving they left notes on our self made thermocol notice board after my repeated badgering. I kept staring at those all morning and let my throat form painful lumps.
I am easy to please. I am a happy person. My folks are too awesome to be true. There is so much love to share. Br, Dr, Mb have become family. I love monsoons. I hope these things will never change.
Amma and Pappa decided to visit me for the weekend. They reached by Saturday noon. She was disgusted to see that I had lost more weight after a week of viral. That is enough to make my tendons jut out and make me look like all bones. Since I had one more hour of duty left, I sent them to see Soan’s farm. It is about 5 Km from the PHC. It has exotic fruits and flowers grown over 100 acres. It is also a delight for bird watchers. It is the kind of a place which people like Raghu Mama would dote on. They were supposed to pick me up at one and drive back to the flat. Meanwhile I called up room mates to get rid of scandalous items and straighten my mess a bit.
The drive made me a little queasy but I tried to distract myself by drooling over the goodies. It was much better than the bus rides though. It had rained last night and the Ghats were green and pretty. We reached in forty minutes.
Br was home already. Ma started unpacking. She launched herself in the kitchen and starting making a quick meal. I had hot rice and poppu with ghee. I ate till a point where one more morsel would have made me vomit. That is how I eat when I like what I am eating. A lot. Else I do not eat at all. Eating for me is more for the taste rather than satisfying hunger. So, one cannot judge my appetite by looking at the quantity. There was a bright yellow bed spread with printed pink and blue flowers spread over my bed with pillows pushed into matching covers. Floral patterns are my favourite. We napped for a while. Dr also came back by then. Pa and I went for a walk to have coffee at the Darshini and gave an ultimatum to everybody to get up and get ready by the time we returned. We went to Blueberry Hills and sat on a rock to enjoy the weather and the tiny multiple lights from the industrial estate. We were giving them the latest college, hospital and friends updates. They were giving us back interesting family gossip. Ma was getting restless and wanted to get back. It was very dark and she thought there was nothing great about the place. We teased her that she is just disappointed that dad did not do for her what SRK did at such a place in Rab ne bana di jodi. She was very keen to go for the Gruha Shobhe exhibition in Mangala stadium. We did a lot of window shopping and trinket shopping. The usual routine. How I love such expeditions. We got back home and Ma made dosa, chutney and potato curry for dinner. She had carried the batter from home for which dad would have surely rolled eyes and called her twenty funny names.
A lazy Sunday morning followed. Dr left early for her NICU duty. Br and I were free. We went for a walk and coffee again and brought back some groceries. Ma made gunthupanglas and groundnut chutney for breakfast. I feasted on those. It was turning out to be a weekend flooded with my favourite things and people. We played carrom. Dad was showing off his stunning shots and tricks. Mb also came home after his duty. We giggled and chattered away into the game till lunch was ready. They had got dhal and coconut holige. Those were served with hot milk. Then there were pooris, mango puree, potato in a tomato-onion based gravy, rice, drumstick sambhar, curd and sago payasam. All of us had multiple gastrointestinal orgasms. Br had downloaded Koncham ishtam koncham kashtam. We arranged the laptop, beds and cushions and set the atmosphere right for the matinee show. Dad did not sleep through it. So you can imagine. The time, the ambience, the people had already gotten me high. I was rolling over and laughing for some brilliant jokes. Now I wonder if it was really that funny. There were constant comments and laughs. Specially at the typical Andhra Telugu dialogues.
We decided to go to Mudipu after that. The weather was perfect. So was the mood. It was about to rain. It was fresh green everywhere. The radio was playing appropriate music. Ma kept telling that this is why she insists on coming to Mang in the car. We were giving her lengthy compliments for her foresight. She did not mind any of the pun. There is a church which looks like Delhi’s Baha’i temple. Plus it is also located amidst hills, forests and fog. We clicked pictures, lit candles, prayed and prattled incessantly.
We got back home and tried to live stream the IPL finals. Earlier when we had stopped at a pastry shop, I was telling Br and Dr about which flavour cake they should order for my birthday this year. Mom demanded that we discussed her cake first since her birthday is closer. Then she said we better get her garlic bread instead. Such is her lovesickness for Pizza hut and its vittles. So before they left I wanted them to have pizzas. The match had begun. So we decided to order for delivery. But it was Sunday evening and it was pouring. So I ordered over the phone and then went and collected it. We gorged.
I wasn’t even interested or aware about how IPL worked, how the money is generated, why it is fun, how it can be interesting when there are players from different countries in the same team, whom to support, who the players are, etc. I was slowly getting into the flow and supporting Bangalore big time. I even had plans to call my Andhra cousins and hee hee haw at them after we won. I got very very sad when we didn’t and also angry that something whose existence I was oblivious to, hours ago, made me upset. I tried to console that Telugu is my mother tongue after all.
They left early in the morning. Before leaving they left notes on our self made thermocol notice board after my repeated badgering. I kept staring at those all morning and let my throat form painful lumps.
I am easy to please. I am a happy person. My folks are too awesome to be true. There is so much love to share. Br, Dr, Mb have become family. I love monsoons. I hope these things will never change.
posted by Gauri @ 7:21 AM
9 comments
