A chain of vignettes. |
the vehicles he called for us and soon we were speeding to the Emerald Farm for a warm dinner provided by Betty and Tom and to relax in the cool accommodation the old home offered. We had a quick dinner of chou mein, a Chinese dish cooked with bean sprouts, pieces of chicken, minced cabbage, shallots and scallions and mainly, noodles. Cooked with chou mein sauce, this preparation sits light in the stomach and digests easily. Most of the Chinese dishes are of boiled variety. I often wonder how the Chinese look ageless and their complexion is so healthy and skin remain intact till very old, say about eighty or ninety. The key secret behind their ageless look, I am sure lies with their style of cooking. They mostly boil things and hardly use any oil. Look at their athletes! They are so boneless and agile on the bar, their bodies a feast to the onlooker’s eyes. They also eat a lot of sea food which is good for the brain to stay alive and sharp. After dinner we walked to our rooms and slept like babies till seven in the morning. After putting on a clean tee shirt and a short I came down for a cup of coffee and breakfast. I saw uncle John and Elvira ensconced in a sofa and talking in soft tones. Both look fresh and smiling. When they saw me they stopped talking and turned to me. “Hi Jim, come and join us for breakfast. I asked Betty to spend the day with her daughter who came home for vacation. I am going to be your chef,” he offered. “Me too. I love cooking although I hardly get a chance to do it,” added Elvira. “How do you like your eggs Jim?” she asked. “I thought I will make a garden omelet for myself and Ashley as she too loves it with her coffee and toast.” I said. Immediately she started chopping vegetable like parcel, coriander, carrots, cabbage and capsicum and few more greens. She stirred in four eggs, shook some salt into the beaten egg and vegetable mix and started making the omelets on a clean pan. First she added some ghee to the pan and poured in some egg mixture. She sprinkled some pepper powder on top and flipped the omelet on the other side. It took about less than four minutes for the golden omelet spotted with green and orange color of the ingredients to appear on my plate. It was so tempting that to let it cool and wilt looked like a sin and so I promptly attacked it with a fork and spoon with my appetite working full time. After I consumed it I raised my head and sighed with satisfaction. I smiled at Elvira still busy at the stove and said, “Thank you for a fine meal Elvira.” She just waved me off. “It is hardly a meal Jim,” she smiled serving another of those omelets to Cathy who just came in. In a while others joined us. Ashley offered to make the rest of the eggs whatever form they wanted. The atmosphere looked pretty domesticated. Others were soon to join us and exclaimed at the short work I made of the garden omelet. As I poured myself a mug of coffee, I sauntered outside to take in the scenario in the garden. Uncles Rod and Jer just entered the precincts of the farm having had a morning walk. They saw me and I greeted them “Good Morning.” “Hi, Jim are you leaving today?” asked uncle Jer. “I will have to talk to mom uncle. Depends what she wants,” I told him. “We have some important things to sort out. So we have asked both our sisters to stay back a while.” Uncle Rod said. “We have talked about it yesterday while having lunch at the grape stomping,” he continued. “I will ask her if she needs me to stay,” I expressed my opinion. I told Ashley about the change in the return schedule. “Jim, I have to go back home. Besides the clinical appointments I also have book club meeting tomorrow at six in the evening. “Can I come with you?” I blurted out. A surprised Ashley said, “Of course silly. You don’t need my permission to come. You are most welcome. It is a very informal thing. You can contribute your opinions on the novel we were reading in the past fifteen days.” She added. “What was the book you were reading?” I asked curiously. “Well, it is Jhumpa Lahiri’s Unaccustomed Earth.” She informed “Is it a novel or a short story?” I asked her. “It is a collection of stories actually,” she replied. “What do you like about her stories?” I wanted to know. “Almost everything. Her settings are always interesting. Her characters emerge very naturally and they are human because they are not perfect. Everyone has a chink in their armor. I like the Indian sensibility she gives voice to. She paints the realistic and appealing picture of a child born of Indian culture but brought in Boston or Los Angeles. Her stories reflect human nature, its shady side mostly I think. There is nothing romantic about her novels. Nature plays no role at all except when a character is involved. This is actually her second collection of short stories. The first collection of stories was The Interpreter of Maladies. It won Pulitzer Prize in the year, 1999. After growing up in the US the children in her books do not like to live in India for reasons which are practical. They have different set of habits, culture and friends with whom they spend time in school and outside. You ask them to go back to their roots a bit late and expect them to be happy. It is neither possible nor feasible. These kinds of situations must not be treated like problems. These conditions of the modern world should be accepted. I like the way she shows her characters being caught in such conflicting situations. No amount idealism or patriotism can assuage a particular character’s existential needs.” “Wow, you seem to have become a fan of Miss. Lahiri’s,” I observed. “If you read her work, you too might become one,” she said laughingly. “So how many of you are there in the book club?’ “Just the six of us. There one college teacher of English, two school teachers, myself, an Indian working for an organization for the homeless people and a painter of landscapes.” Ashley told me. “What do you do at the book club?” I asked. “We drink coffee and talk about the book. Altogether it becomes an analysis of a kind,” Ashley replied patiently. “May be I should try next time when you guys get a new book for reading and reviewing.” I said and decided to go in and get the wind of what the others are planning to do. Uncle John had left the guests to choose between the options of going for shopping to the main city in the state or just relax under the canopy of trees in his front and backside lawns. My mother suggested that she and siblings should sit together and have that important meeting my uncles Rod and Jer called for. Elvira and Ashley and I were thrown together to go shopping as suggested by uncle John. “We will leave by in an hour or two to the city, John. If we start now as I said we will be reaching our home by lunch time. This is my plan. What do you say Cathy?” he asked looking at her expectantly. “Sure Ryan. That will suit us well. As you say we will have enough time to relax and rest before our working week starts tomorrow, the manic Monday,” joked Cathy. “Well, if both of you are in agreement we do not have any objection to your plan Ryan. It has been a great time with you guys. For once, loneliness had disappeared from the precincts of Emerald Farm and in its place grace and splendor made a dramatic appearance,” said uncle John in an unusually poetic vein. “John you are waxing poetic, chum. Where are you getting it from buddy? Let me know. I should tune my mood too,” Ryan commented with a hearty laugh. “I will let you into my secret soon enough buddy. Any day now,” uncle John sounded rather mysterious. “So John thank you for everything you have done my friend. Count on me if you need me for anything and I do not mean just the bank work,” said Ryan on a more serious note. “Ok Ok dear friend. You are welcome at the Emerald Farm any time any day you like. See you soon and Good bye till then. Good bye dear Cathy. Don’t work too hard. Learn to relax a bit,” uncle John jovial once again. “Thank you John. I look forward to meet you again. |