The Gift of Life

Life is uncertain, strange, painful.....but still a gift.💕
I do not have enough words to express by feelings as I write this blog today.

....dedicate this to A-senior whilst feeling extremely proud of our A-Junior.

January 2021 changed our lives forever. 

But this is not a post about the grief and pain that came with the change. 

This post is about the joy and pride that I feel (and am sure A-Senior feels wherever he is) when our A-junior crossed a milestone in his life as he graduated from school.

This post is about celebrating everyday, one step at a time even though life seemed to have stopped a few months back....

This post is about our in-built resilience which takes us through the difficult moments....

This post is about those friends and family (read angels) around us who gave us the strength to stand up again....

This post is about the many joyful moments we spent together, cherishing those memories and promising to keep on creating more memories in future......

This post is about love, hope, celebrations .... and still being able to believe in ...

"The Gift of Life"

A-junior finished school .

What a relief !! what a celebration!! what a proud moment for parents, family and friends!!

As usual there were the difficult moments.😀

The mother just refused to understand how someone can learn Maths from Youtube.

A-junior failed to convince the mother why he can still continue to game online a month before exams.

The mother panicked when she saw the bulk of the Physics syllabus that he needs to study.

A-junior woke up at 11:30 am during his preparation month!

The mother freaked out looking at the clock.

A-junior ....

The mother .....

....the list is a long one. 

Fast forward. Results day.

[Here, students are informed personally over phone about their boards results...around 3:00 PM.]

The clock seemed to have stopped at 2:45.

The mother looked at the clock a million times in between her meetings.  A-junior woke up late, made a nice sandwich, ate it and moved around in the room looking totally cool.....this freaked out the mother even more.

"Phone kothay?"  [where is your phone?]

"Phone e charge ache to?" [is your phone charged?]

"ora ki alphabetically call korbe? [will the school call in alphabetic order?]

The phone rang at 3:05

A-junior picked up the phone, listened and said "thank you". The mother heaved a sigh of relief.

The mentor told the mother, "Gefeliciteerd!! Congratulations! he deserves to pass because he had worked so hard amidst such difficult circumstances"

I hugged A-junior with tears in my eyes. 

Tears of pride and happiness...................................A-senior smiled and hugged us too.

I missed him the most at that moment.

Ok, now some action!!!!

This is one custom which I absolutely love in the Netherlands. I have been wanting to do this for a long time but one needed to pass school to do this.

Yes!!!! My wait was finally over. 

Usually a flagpole is used for this purpose. 

Our house does not have one so I went into the garden to look for a strong sturdy stick.  [Ma, please not with a stick]

Then some cellotape.  [Really Ma, you are going to use cellotape?]

Then the school bag.  [that will be too heavy, it cannot hang that way]

Royally ignoring all the italics, I did it! A-junior joined me sheepishly and even helped me out with the cellotape  :-)

Children hang their school bags along with the flag outside their house to announce to the world that they have passed their board exams......done with the old school bag!!!

A perfect custom to respect the hard work of the children and to look forward to the next phase of life.

As the blue "geslaagd" [Passed] flag flutter outside our bedroom window, I derive strength and inspiration from it.

I feel proud of his resilience and hope to see him develop into a fantastic loving human being.

I remember and cherish the bond that he shares with A-Senior.

I feel thankful that I have these two fantastic gentlemen in my life.....forever.💗

'Legacy' Biryani and a book

 I wanted to write about this for a while now....
.....and then a book ("Those Delicious Letters' by Sandeepa, aka Bong Mom)  inspired me to really write it.... 

Food can build relations,. Food can rekindle love. Food can make you immortal.💖💖

Nanda Boudi, this is a tribute to you and Indra-da.
We are blessed to have known you..... 💕

Apart from all the memories that we have with you,  this legacy of yours will keep on flavouring our kitchen, delighting our taste buds and filling our hearts for the years to come.....

The story, if I start from the start will be very long. However, it is very important to explain our relation since the post is titled 'legacy'. 

Indrada became my online friend in 1997-98. (days of no whatsapp, no facebook, no mobile phones)
I was in Japan then. Phd stress, lonely days, new computer, digital era starting up -- I got introduced to a 'Yahoo-groups' group where I started posting stories from Japan. It was a small group of 7-8 Bengalis, different age groups from different parts of the world, all sharing their experiences and making the best of a digital forum ...thereby creating beautiful virtual relationships. 

I addressed the members of the group as 'da' and 'di' as most of us Bengalis are used to doing. At some point of time, the virtual relations became very real and close. 
"Dada", "jethu", "mamu", "pishi", "senapati", "indumoti", "bonT"....simple family 'relations' with a virtual flavour.

(Believe me, I ended up marrying one of them!! Will save that story for later)😀

Indrada, even though he was older than my father,  was more a 'dada' than a 'jethu' ! He was a fantastic storyteller who had roamed the world and hence had his 'jhuli' full of all kinds of interesting stories. We had an instant 'click' and he loved me like his daughter. I really miss your phone calls, Indrada.

When I came to Netherlands and met them for the first time (in Germany), it did not feel even for once that this relationship was graduating from a virtual to a real one. Indrada was exactly the way I had imagined he would be, tall, handsome, smart and fun. Nanda boudi, (who was not yahoo-groups savvy) was beautiful and loving and on the first day welcomed us with "Tomra Biryani khao to? ami tomar dadake bollam aj Biryani banai" (do you like Biryani? )

On a dark winter evening in Frankfurt, while Indrada took us through his collection of carpet stories through the streets of Iran and Turkey, the mouthwatering aroma of Nanda-boudi's Biryani wafted into our nostrils and transported us to the royal kitchens of Awadh and Lucknow......

His storytelling, Her Biryani .....me and A-senior sat with our red wines, mesmerized.

Biryani was served. 
The best Biryani I had in my entire life !! 

This Biryani was unlike any other Biryani I had before.... simply super! 
I must have uttered "Boudi eta shikhiye dio  (please teach me how to make it)" with every spoonful that entered my mouth. She promised she will. However boudi's generation was not into 'recipes', so it was very hard for her to capture it in writing. 

I tasked Indrada to get me the recipe when she makes it the next time. Indrada surrendered after a few attempts saying, "tumi nije likhe nio, kono kichui maap e bole na" [you write it yourself, she can never give exact quantities]😀

" EKTU mouri, TIN-CHARTE lobongo, ANDAJ MOTON dhone... dur baba ei bhabe ki lekha jay?". 

I let him off the hook and agreed with Boudi that when they next come to Holland, she will cook infront of us and we will capture the recipe.

......and so we did. 

On their next visit, both me and A-senior stood beside her to capture it. In our excitement, we forgot all the fancy phones and cameras we have and hastily grabbed a book and scribbled the recipe on the back page.
It is called "NandaBoudi-s Biryani" at our place and the good news is that A-senior has almost mastered it. I can just sit and enjoy...

We  treasure this one page and will hold on to this recipe till our love for biryani lasts.

Thank you Boudi.💖

Like I said before,  a book triggered this post.

"Those Delicious Letters' by Sandeepa (aka Bong Mom) is all about letters and food. The book shares legacy recipes which if not passed on to the next generation may just vanish. The skillfully written story around the recipes also bring back faith in relationships and the impact of food on them. Thanks Sandeepa.

While reading the book, I remembered Nanda Boudi and Indrada, who even though not blood relations, had become family. His stories and Her Biryani has become part of our lives.

I want to share it with you all today.....let the legacy recipe reach your kitchen too.
Good things must be shared.

Nanda Boudi's Biryani

The main thing is the Biryani masala. (Follow the rice making and layering as in other Biryani recipes)

For marination masala( 1 kg mutton):

• Coriander seed : 2-3 tbsp
• Cardamom, Cinnamon, Cloves: 2-3 pieces of each
• Aniseed : 1/2 tbsp
• Mustard seeds < 1/2 tbsp    (this is how it was said and therefore written;-)
• Nutmeg : 1 small piece  (ek tukro)
• Anistar: 1/2
• Jayatri: 1/2
• Cumin seeds: 1/2 tbsp
• Black pepper : 6-7
• Garam masala powder 1/2 tbsp
• Red chilli powder 1/2 tbsp

Make a dry powder of all the above.

Marinate the mutton (2 hrs) with the masala powder, 1 tbsp of garlic paste, 1 tbsp of onion juice (not paste), 2 tbsp of white oil, 2 tbsp of sour cream.

Cook till meat is tender and layer with rice (as in normal Biryani recipes)

pc: Arijeet Sen

A job and Kumro-patay Chingri paturi

 

Meanwhile the subject of my blog has really grown up.

A proper interview and then a proper part time job !!

I started this blog as a diary to capture my thoughts when A-junior was really small.

So........when the crawling, burping, salivating 'little thing' (who is not so little anymore) called up and said, 'Ma I got the job',  it did trigger a sort of Nirupa-Roy-ish reaction in the mother........

Awwww....where did the years fly? 

O my God, I am growing old!

Haha!

Jokes apart, I am very happy. 

This part time job marks a certain beginning in the journey of life.

Kids in this part of the world start these jobs pretty young. He started with  a newspaper-delivery job when he was 13 and now at 15, this job is a more 'official' one at a super market. 

I really wish I had the chance to do such a job when I was 15. 

At his age I had to study. ...and study and study.  Drowning under the pressure of books and a career goal which was so much embedded in our education and social system that we all ran towards it (almost) blindly. Anything other than studies was considered to be a waste of time.

Engineer or Doctor --- These were the two generic options which most kids were running after at that time.

Nothing really wrong in that, but in the process, all other life skills were totally ignored or underestimated in terms of its impact in building a person's character. 

Degrees and certificates were the primary objectives.

The first thing that these young kids learn in these part time jobs is the 'value' of money.

(A-junior was shocked to see that he could earn only a few euros after delivering newspaper to 300 households! Tough life junior ;-)

The next thing they learn is dignity of labour. Appreciating and respecting any kind of hard work to earn a living is a lesson of life.

The third thing is flexibility. Going out of the family comfort zone is very important for everyone, specially at a young age when the mind is still free from the many biases and rigidities that we adults develop later in life.

The fourth is professionalism ......

....and I can go on and on.

If we as parents, can equip these young people with the right amount of respect, empathy, sincerity and accountability...our job is done.

Degrees and certificates are really the secondary requirements.

Disclaimer:  I also repeat the 'porte bosho, porte bosho' (Study, study) mantra everyday for A-junior. It is embedded in my system. I am an Indian mother.

😀

Kumro-patay Chingri paturi

A few pumpkin seeds carelessly planted in the garden (during the early days of lockdown) really grew into a nice pumpkin tree. 

The first thing a dear friend 'D' said when she saw the leaves was "amar ma chingri paturi banay, try koro" (My mother makes chingri paturi, try).

Once the seed of the Paturi was planted in my head, it was hard not to check the pumpkin tree everyday. I watered the plant, nurtured the leaves with more care and waited patiently, with my taste buds salivating profusely whenever I thought about their destiny. 

The moment I spotted 4-5 nice healthy leaves, I jumped into action.

.....and I have to admit, it was worth all the wait and the effort.

The end product was a pure "Oh! DenHaag" on the plate.

 Nothing less than Nirvana in a packet......

(I am a fan of "Oh!Calcutta", hence the benchmarking nomenclature)

• Clean the leaves well with warm water (the leaves are quite thin, unlike banana leaves, so be careful not to wash too hard)
• Marinate the prawns (no shell) with mustard paste, grated coconut, turmeric, salt, green chilli paste and mustard oil. Set aside for 30 mins.
• Pat dry the leaves with a kitchen cloth.
• Brush the inside of the leaves with a few drops of mustard oil.
• Place 2-3 prawns and a bit of the paste in the middle of the leaf and fold it well.
• Tie it with a thread (washed) and make small packets.
• Steam them for 20 mins.
• Eat with steaming white rice .....(eat the leaves as well).
• Nothing less than Nirvana in a packet.

 

Broccoli-Alur chop - Orebaba

Just the title itself is enough reason for Bengalis all over to world to come together, sign a petition and declare me  "anti-Bengali".

No matter what I write on my Hijibiji Blog, I will not be able to make them smile again. Ever.

I may be demolished from a few social media groups.

I can be taken off the friend's lists.

I can be...........

The verdict can be anything.

....  Broccoli in The Alur chop?  

"Ha Bhogoban, e din dekhar aage tumi amake tule nile na keno?" [Bengali movie style]

We, Bengalis,  are very sensitive , especially about the things which pass through our taste buds into our stomach. 

Usually, we do not tolerate any experiments there.

...Broccoli Alu-r chop??

A crime. 

Period.

However, in my defence, I need to give you the facts, Your Honour.

The menu on the table was NOT Broccoli Alu-r chop! 

It was not planned. 

The menu on the table was steamed carrots and broccoli drizzled generously with garlic olive oil and chilli flakes, grilled crisp zuccinis and roasted chicken. 

.......What happened next at the dinner table yesterday gave rise to the unprecedented recipe today.......

Pleading innocent, Your Honour!

As the carrots and the zuccini and the chicken gradually vanished from the plates, I could already notice a surplus of brocccolis.

No doubt, it was delicious but it was a lot.

We had all eaten a good share. But I was not very keen to put the remaining in the fridge ( a. extra work which I hate b. who do you think will eat leftover steamed broccoli the next day?)

I wanted to push them into the stomachs and succeeded in making two more florets vanish.

..but then A junior put his foot down.

"Ma, please aar Broccoli dio na. I already ate a lot and cannot have any more"

A-senior had the same pleading look in his eyes.

However (pause), he went on to say........"I cannot have a single piece anymore of these steamed broccolis".

Thats it!

That was the point when in my head I started planning the future of these iron-filled green flowers of hope and health!

Fast forward next evening.

Something fried and hot was served....totally unplanned. Brought few smiles....

"Bah besh bhalo hoyeche khete..."  {Good taste !}

"Ma, bhalo laglo khete, arekta debe?"   {Good taste Mom, can I have one more?}

.......and with that the broccolis from last night winked at me happily, passed through the taste buds with flying colours and made their way towards the stomach.

I clenched my fists and did a "YES!!".

[Of course I shared my recipe with A-Senior and Junior!! 😁, after the plates were empty]

I have said enough and will not risk talking explicitly about the "recipe"anymore.

But in short, (whispering) , if you have Broccoli left overs...

Mash the steamed florets with boiled potatoes, add 1 tsp of grated ginger, 1 tsp chopped green chillies, 1 tsp of chopped green coriander and salt.

Make small flat ovals, dip it in a besan batter and fry.

Taste was really nice, Your Honour!

Quick, finish it up before the Bengali community gets to know about it...........

The verdict can be anything.

Lockdown Haircut and Daal-delicacy

Never ever did I imagine that one of my blog titles will have 'lockdown' in it.

Our lives have changed over the last few weeks.

Staying home is saving lives.

Virtual is the new real.

Looking inward is the way forward.

Simplicity has been reinstated.

The Gift of Life is being appreciated again...................

When I started this blog, it was meant to be a diary of A-junior growing up. Small funny interesting anecdotes combined with the cooking and the cameras. But as he grew up, the anecdotes became less cute (;-) and discussing those publicly became a no-no! 

Today's situation is an exception. Totally unprecedented and unexpected. 

So the rules are a bit relaxed.

My hopes with the blog is that one day A-junior will be reading it with his family...and the anecdote will bring a smile to his lips.

After 2 weeks of lockdown when the hair started to cross the ears, the men in the family started to lose their cool and the locked-down-family equilibrium felt at risk.

Both men love their hair short. 

A-Junior has just started to like it bit longer at the top but still wants the sides cropped short.

A-Senior has lost most of it. Still.........

Hair cut is a necessity and part of "essential services' at our place.

So the situation was not very pleasant. The fact that the hair was really growing fast and making life difficult was mentioned multiple times a day. Mood swings became directly proportional to the hair length and had nothing to do with the teenage (or mid life) hormones. 

At some point, A-junior could not take it any longer and wanted to buy a hair-cut-kit. A-senior supported the idea with a lot of enthusiasm.

The kit was ordered online and was delivered at the door step.

So far so good, everything was ok, and then........

I was asked to inaugurate the machine. 

On my son's head! My one and only son,  and his one and only head!

...and I did.

Technically, these machines (am sure many of you use them as well) are quite easy to handle. They have settings on the machine which allows you to cut the hair exactly at a certain length, I have seen it used by the hair dresser ten thousand times.

Looked very simple...just like a lawn mower.......zzrrrrrrrrr....and done.

[A-junior set the mark on the machine and handed it to me].

However, in this case by the time I got the 'feel' of the zzrrrrrrrrr....the damage was already done.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was this big patch of 'nothingness' above the left ear of my son. I immediately realized he had set it at the shortest length and I had used my biceps a little bit more than required. I panicked.

To match the left side, I tried to use the same muscles on the right but nervousness gripped me. (what kind of a mother am I to have caused such damage?). The right side 'nothingness' did not finally match the left side 'nothingness'. I tried to play a bit with the settings and left the top patch quite long, to compensate for the blunders at the sides. 

The head looked like parched land in summer with the mirage of a few oasis here and there.

I also said sorry 50 times ( it was so bad!!).

He was cool and said, "no problem Mom, who cares? we are in lockdown" and with that put on a cap.

After the incident, A-senior's enthusiasm and urgency to get his hair cut suddenly vanished....

He even avoided eye contact for 2 days till he could not bear his long hair anymore.

So today, I did it again.......the result is not very bad. 

It is still parched land but without oasis here and there.

After all, practice makes a (wo)man perfect!

;-)

Corona is making us do strange things.

The two major takeaways for me from this lockdown is Simplicity and Humility.

Whatever we are, Wherever we are, Whoever we are.....

Stay simple, stay humble.

Under the lockdown situation our diet has become simpler. The supermarket visits are  few and we do not hoard a lot of stuff.

One of the most simple (yet diverse) items in our cuisine is Daal.

It is a comfort food for me and  takes very little time to cook.

A few variations can change the taste totally, making each recipe very unique and very tasty.

Let me share a daal  from my kitchen today.

Daal Delicacy-1.: Daal-e-rang-bahar

Cooked with tomatoes and spinach, this moong daal is rich in colour, taste and nutrition.

Ready steady cook:

Dry roast the moong daal till it turns golden brown in colour. Wash and boil together with one large tomato and fresh spinach. Add salt, turmeric and 1/2 tsp sugar.

In a heavy bottom pan, heat ghee. Add a tbsp of whole cumin, 1 bayleaf, 1 dry red chilli, and 1 tbsp of grated ginger.

Fry for a minute and then add the boiled daal.

Have with white rice.

Simple.

'Long time, no see' with Lau Chingri

I have to admit that I have not posted anything on Gift of Life for a very long time.
Too many initiatives, too many responsibilities, too many interests, painful knee, full time job, teenage son, the 24-hr ridiculously short days .......

Excuses! I know!

Meanwhile, I did cook a lot. 
Really. Took photos as well.
A-junior (who is in his teens now and not the subject of this blog anymore) also said and did few things worth posting but ....
A-senior continues to be his 'cool' self , thereby adding more topics for my blogs but.....

Ok, I see it in your eyes.
I admit, I have ignored the "Gift of Life" for a while. 
The Corona made me reflect.💓
The 'Gift of Life" must be appreciated every moment.

Eating healthy home cooked food had always been in the family. More so because both of us love to cook.
But with time (some of you will naughtily call it AGE :-)), I realized that my cooking habits are becoming more and more traditional. My taste buds are craving for simple tastes that I grew up with.
Flavours from my Mom's kitchen.
She was never fond of cooking when we were growing up. It was mostly very simple food which was cooked in very very short time. Her interest was more in housekeeping. The sofa needed to be spotless, the curtains absolutely matched and hanging straight and smart, not a speck of dust on the windowsill.....and all that required time which she saved from her cooking agenda.
My father left for work at 7:15 AM . He carried his lunch from home.
Hence her 3-4 course lunch menu was cooked and ready before 7:10 AM.
Daal, Bhaat, Bhaja, Macher jhol and Chatni.....
No recipe books, no measuring spoons, no non-stick frying pans.....
Simple tastes. Simple flavours. Healthy.

My love for cooking came much later in life. 
Hostel life taught me egg-curry. 😊 We made different types of egg curries, creativity at the best. When "M" cooked hers, it was so good, that the rest of us opted for washing utensils.
The cook in me was born.
We also learnt to appreciate whatever was on our plates. 
At home, plates were wiped clean due to fear (you have not see my mom's eyes 😀).
Hostel life taught me to be thankful for food on my plate. Any food. Especially the effort that goes in to prepare and serve. 
Taught me to appreciate what my mom cooked and served everyday.

My REAL cooking began only when I started living alone in Japan and very soon realized that instant noodles is not healthy and is actually very boring. Eating out in Japan, for a student on scholarship was also not exactly doable. I was also highly encouraged by the international hostel kitchen where we prepared and exhibited food from our own countries. Indian food was super hit....anything yellow and faintly smelling of garam masala was appreciated to the moon and back.
The cook in me was encouraged.
Then A-senior came into life,  a foodie who also loves to cook .
...after that there was no looking back. (for the weighing machine, I mean!!)
The cook in me was established.

Crazy situation!
As the Corona globally dances around scaring everyone with its novelty, we are stuck at home with our hand sanitizers and whatsapp messages. 
Take care friends. Be aware, be careful, be and keep safe.
I pick up my  "Gift of Life"
Keeping clean, Not panicking, Increasing social distance ---the three weapons we have to fight the virus.

.....and of course there is Lau-Chingri.

Ingredients:

• Prawns (for me they are the other name of Nirvana, so I was generous)
• Gourd (cut into thin slices)
• 2 Bay leaves 
• 1 tsp whole cumin
• 1 stick of cinnamon and 2 pods of cardamom
• 1 tsp cumin powder
• 1 tsp coriander powder
• 1 tbsp chopped green chilli
• 1 tbsp grated ginger
• 1/2 cup chopped tomatoes
• Mustard oil to cook
• 1 tsp ghee (optional)
• 1/2 tsp sugar

Ready steady cook:

Heat the mustard oil and fry the prawns (marinated for 10 mins with salt and turmeric) till they turn orange. Keep aside.

In the same oil add a spoon of ghee, add the cinnamon, cardamom, cumin seeds and the chopped chillies. 

As it sizzles, add the gourd and the chopped tomatoes, Then add salt , sugar, cumin powder, coriander powder and turmeric. 

Usually gourd releases a lot of water. Let it cook (covered) in its own water till it becomes soft.

Next add the prawns, cover and cook for a few more minutes on low heat.

Garnishing with chopped coriander is an option.

Your dinner on your plate is a Gift of Life.

Blast from the past :Japan 2019

It felt like I had never left.
The looks, the smell, the feel.......exactly same as 18 years ago!

The immigration officer at Kansai airport, turned the pages of my passport and asked, "what is the reason of your visit?"
"I am here to visit my University professor and friends." I replied back in English.
He nodded his head.
On second thoughts, I hesitantly added,
Watashi Kobe Daigaku de benkyoshimashita". [I studied in Kobe University]

He gave me a big smile and immediately switched to Japanese. Full speed.
I felt nervous, have not spoken the language for 18 long years.
I almost panicked, trying to frame another full sentence in Japanese inside my head.

..and then it happened! It was as if a switch was turned on!

A steady flow of Japanese words started coming out of my mouth. The way the officer nodded and continued talking, they must have made sense too.....
O my God, I can talk!! I mean I can talk in Japanese!
I silently thanked that part of my brain which had carefully preserved the language in some corner.
I talked a lot.
..Ended up giving away a lot of unnecessary extra information to the officer, just out of sheer happiness of being able to speak Japanese again....

The objective of the trip was to "Relive my memories".
There was a certain 'calling' which I was feeling for the past few months. A-senior gave me the final push to 'make it happen'. So off I went to the land of the rising sun......where I had spent 5 years, a long long time ago.

Loved every moment of my 'memory-trip' week ....it was magical.
Excitement, happiness, nostalgia, ...and much more.

I came back, happy and satisfied, with one big realisation.

"Relations have magic in them".

My 'memory trip' was magical not because of the places I visited but because of the people I met, with whom I had created a bond 'then' and reconnected 'now'. 
Where did the years vanish? 
Some bonds are forever!

I dedicate this blog post to all those people who made my stay in Japan memorable all those years ago and who have not changed a bit, till today!
( I met some of them this time....)

1996: First trip outside India...alone. First day, I had entered Kobe University with  a lot of homesickness and nervousness....met Morii Sensei and my group mates.
Time passed. The bond became stronger and stronger.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to the same group.
2019: Felt like home-coming!! Starting from Morii Sensei's warm greeting, Ohkuma's laughter, Satoshi's shy smile, Mawatari's caring atitude, Shiotani's humorous talk,the phone chat with Sudou, Kasahara san's loving hug, Morii-san's motherly cooking...the lunch at the university canteen, my presentation in the department meeting room, the evening beer with all...
......the 18 years in between just vanished.
The university gave me a degree on paper. It gave me much more in my life....

1997: I was introduced to a Japanese 'host' family from the International students department. The objective was to help me integrate into the lifestyle of Japan. I was asked to address them as Otosan (Papa) and Okasan (Mama). It started with a few social-cultural interactions with the family.
Time passed. The bond became stronger and stronger.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to my tearful Japanese parents.
2019: Felt like the daughter was back home. My parents rejoiced. We travelled together, ate, chatted, shopped and had fun..the Japanese parents with their Indian daughter.
Otosan and Okasan are indeed my Papa and Mama in every sense of those words....

1998: Someone at the university mentioned that an Indian family was in town. I got introduced to S'da and family. (During those student days, getting introduced to a family meant good food ;-))On the first meeting itself, they 'adopted' me as their daughter into the family. Over the days, months, years that followed,  they proved that some relations are just special.
2001: I was in tears at the airport bidding farewell to my Indian family in Japan.
2019: The daughter was back. Love and attention was showered on me. They know what I love to eat, what I love to do, what I love to say...they just know me.
S'da and Bouma are not just an Indian family. They are MY family.
Met another Indian family, A'da and boudi. I immediately became their younger sister. Their tiny son P-chan became so attached to me that he even refused to go back home with his parents after one of their visits. I can still remember the scene vividly--a crying P-chan at Motomachi station, baffled parents trying to persuade the crying P-chan and a helpless, sad me bidding goodbye.
2019: Knocked on their door, gave them a surprise. In return, I was super surprised with P-chan all grown up and handsome and working and ......so shy when the station incident was mentioned.
Some bonds are made forever....

1998: Met M as a fellow international student. Clicked immediately. Clearly remember, one time when her mother was visiting from Iran, she asked me if she can tie up my unruly hair. When I said yes, she lovingly plaited my hair and all the while kept on talking to me (in Persian, which I do not understand ).  I could clearly hear my mom talking.."how many times have I asked you to oil your hair properly and not keep it like this, etc etc?" Mothers are mothers everywhere in the world.
2019: Even though social media kept us connected, it was pure coincidence that M was around during my visit. We picked up exactly where we had left..The same giggles, visiting the same places, opening up our hearts and much more...
Friendship has no boundaries and no expiry date.

There is so much more to write.....the food, the flowers, the people, the trains, the language, the weather, the temples, the........

Love you Japan!
Sayonara..till the next time.