A Joyride With Daddy on Memory Lane
Birthdays were red letter days in our family calendar. So
when daddy’s came along a few days back I remembered him and made an offering
of a few of his favourite snacks and food. Missing him, my eyes welled up with
tears and through misty eyes I looked at the little items I had arranged on the
sill below the oil lamp I light daily. Strangely, as if by the wave of a wand
by daddy, I was whisked off to Memory Lane! My eyes dried up and I could feel
myself beginning to smile…
Daddy’s must-have morning cup of coffee. He always got his
way with mummy drinking his ‘bed coffee’ without brushing his teeth, arguing,
“Do elephants brush their teeth?” As tots we were fascinated by the froth that
stood high up to the brim of the cup and how we vied to sip the coffee froth
while daddy propped himself up with The Hindu on his Dunlop mattress!
A
slab of Cadbury’s [of course, not the big slabs daddy
munched on and heaped us with. Just a finger-size one but ,all the
same,power-packed with mammoth-size memories!] Another Cadbury we knew
was Richie Rich's butler. One thought led to another-butler's
English-the term we used for broken English.Daddy had us guffawing
quoting his relative who said, "Sitting on the koppu upon the pulliya
maram."
Marie Biscuits. Daddy was the unofficial brand ambassador for Marie biscuits ! In exasperation we would tell him in vain for the nth time that it was Marie and not Mary. So also,our boarding mistress was Marie Ange and not Mary Ange.
Bananas.Daddy did go bananas over that fruit! I laughed at daddy many a times for scraping the inside part of the peel and eating that too [not just eating but relishing!] Many years later only I heard and read of the goodness of including fibre in the diet. How stupid I was to have laughed at him when he was being wise.
Bowl of Oats. He told us the British [he never said the English as we were more used to saying] called it porridge .So as a tiny tot when I first read of Goldilocks eating the baby bear's porridge this little girl was able to imagine what that little girl ate. Daddy topped his bowl of oats with 'Christmas palam'. To daddy who was always coaxing us during our holidays "Talk in English." this little fish would try to impress him by saying that dry fruit was called raisin or currant. Not to forget the 'bowl' aspect. All of us tried but never succeeded in getting him to say 'bowl' [to rhyme with coal] and not bowl[as in owl]
I had only dates that day .Nevertheless, that didn't stop my train of old memories.I recollected the other exotic and expensive nuts and dried fruits daddy had introduced us to -walnuts,pistachios and apricots.He even had mummy pack them as tuck to take to school. Miss Colette would ask me for the walnut shells to use as a baby's bassinet or a tub for water or whatever the theme of her 'rock garden'[it stood on a wooden frame ]demanded. That was an age when kids beamed with pride about giving something to their class teacher.
Bombay Toast. Yes, that sumptuous delight was given that city's name. Only many years later did I come to know that it was actually called French toast !Anyway, the new knowledge didn't stir up any 'french revolution' . It continued to be Bombay toast and we devoured it just as greedily! As the bard wrote,"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet."
My train of thoughts was sidetracked by 'Bombay'.I thought of mummy-daddy's Bombay honeymoon and the home movie which overlapped dad's cousin's wedding. When I mentioned that to my friends in school they laughed about our parents' honeymoon when their last child had begun school. They didn't know that to our mummy and daddy everyday of their marriage was a honeymoon and their love didn't wax and wane like the moon,even on days they argued and screamed at each other in a rage.I was always amazed at how daddy could calculate and keep track of their milestone anniversaries -not in terms of years but days !He taught us that the best gift a father can give his children is to love their mother. Good God, what a gifted bunch my siblings and I were!!!
Candies. We youngest three siblings often competed who could eat the most number of puris. Daddy would hush us up and tell us to stop counting and to just eat well. Well, we all followed that principle to eating gulab jamoons as well-we could gulp down a countless number of mum's specialty with such ease and speed !Daddy practiced what he preached in eating candies !The number of candy wrappers that would be strewn on his bed always infuriated mummy and amused us but that never slowed down daddy's sweet tooth!
As the cellphone rang I was back to the present and my eyes fell on the brand name on the candy wrapper-Candyman. I chuckled to myself and thought,'' Well, Daddy was indeed a 'Candyman ' !!!''
''God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.'' James Mathew Barrie
Marie Biscuits. Daddy was the unofficial brand ambassador for Marie biscuits ! In exasperation we would tell him in vain for the nth time that it was Marie and not Mary. So also,our boarding mistress was Marie Ange and not Mary Ange.
Bananas.Daddy did go bananas over that fruit! I laughed at daddy many a times for scraping the inside part of the peel and eating that too [not just eating but relishing!] Many years later only I heard and read of the goodness of including fibre in the diet. How stupid I was to have laughed at him when he was being wise.
Bowl of Oats. He told us the British [he never said the English as we were more used to saying] called it porridge .So as a tiny tot when I first read of Goldilocks eating the baby bear's porridge this little girl was able to imagine what that little girl ate. Daddy topped his bowl of oats with 'Christmas palam'. To daddy who was always coaxing us during our holidays "Talk in English." this little fish would try to impress him by saying that dry fruit was called raisin or currant. Not to forget the 'bowl' aspect. All of us tried but never succeeded in getting him to say 'bowl' [to rhyme with coal] and not bowl[as in owl]
I had only dates that day .Nevertheless, that didn't stop my train of old memories.I recollected the other exotic and expensive nuts and dried fruits daddy had introduced us to -walnuts,pistachios and apricots.He even had mummy pack them as tuck to take to school. Miss Colette would ask me for the walnut shells to use as a baby's bassinet or a tub for water or whatever the theme of her 'rock garden'[it stood on a wooden frame ]demanded. That was an age when kids beamed with pride about giving something to their class teacher.
Bombay Toast. Yes, that sumptuous delight was given that city's name. Only many years later did I come to know that it was actually called French toast !Anyway, the new knowledge didn't stir up any 'french revolution' . It continued to be Bombay toast and we devoured it just as greedily! As the bard wrote,"What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet."
My train of thoughts was sidetracked by 'Bombay'.I thought of mummy-daddy's Bombay honeymoon and the home movie which overlapped dad's cousin's wedding. When I mentioned that to my friends in school they laughed about our parents' honeymoon when their last child had begun school. They didn't know that to our mummy and daddy everyday of their marriage was a honeymoon and their love didn't wax and wane like the moon,even on days they argued and screamed at each other in a rage.I was always amazed at how daddy could calculate and keep track of their milestone anniversaries -not in terms of years but days !He taught us that the best gift a father can give his children is to love their mother. Good God, what a gifted bunch my siblings and I were!!!
Candies. We youngest three siblings often competed who could eat the most number of puris. Daddy would hush us up and tell us to stop counting and to just eat well. Well, we all followed that principle to eating gulab jamoons as well-we could gulp down a countless number of mum's specialty with such ease and speed !Daddy practiced what he preached in eating candies !The number of candy wrappers that would be strewn on his bed always infuriated mummy and amused us but that never slowed down daddy's sweet tooth!
As the cellphone rang I was back to the present and my eyes fell on the brand name on the candy wrapper-Candyman. I chuckled to myself and thought,'' Well, Daddy was indeed a 'Candyman ' !!!''
''God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.'' James Mathew Barrie
