This is a time when traditions come to the fore. The season is rife with pujas, parties and pretentiousness. Of course, the truly elegant mix tradition with festivities, family and friends-like-family. They come home to greet, meet and play some fun card games. I think I was born old! I really felt bored at big Deepavali bashes and by 10pm I was ready to call it a night like a true-blue party-pooper. Whereas, my sister loves the Deepavali night celebrations (mostly thrown in her massive home) with music, bar-tenders, dancing and the works. Invariably, the ‘men-in-brown’ would stop by, pick up some gratuity and move on. No one was none the wiser and the ‘Deepavali-cheer’ went about being just that…cheerful.
This year, my birthday and the Deepavali dhamakas more or less coincided with each other. My daughter and her family (plus nanny) were all down from Mumbai after a long time. I was delirious with joy. I couldn’t have asked for more! A big contingent of my sister’s family and mine celebrated a raucous birthday lunch in the private dining area of Royal China (a fave place even in Mumbai to dine in), where we bumped into half the ‘pretties’ of Bangalore. We had ourselves a great time, and as a mother, ‘glamma’, sister, and wife, I couldn’t be more complete.
My ‘munchkin’, all of three and a full-fledged ‘threenager’ was with me for a glorious ten days. I wanted to pack every experience into those days. Show her who her ‘glamma’ was as a person, the aquarium, the train-park, the older side of Bangalore, the traditions of doing the rituals at home, how to draw rangoli, the meaning and story behind the festival and I even managed to show her the Kole Basava, an old folk practice in Karnataka when a highly-decorated bull accompanied by gypsies or nomads blesses people in exchange for alms. This will probably be an extinct art form by the time she grows up and I wanted her to have memories of her ‘nani’s’ home like we all have.
My fortnight has flown by in a meaningful blur where we only met and interacted with close friends and family. No ‘shoo’ and no ‘shaa’ and no social media hype. Having been through the whole roller coaster for the last two decades, I don’t sit in judgment, but I know I never ever let all the outside noise take precedence over family.
Speaking of family, my ‘bondhu’, the masterchef Abhijit Saha and his lovely wife Shruti, opened up a beautiful and intimate Neapolitan pizzeria and trattoria at Carlton Towers, called ‘Rosmarino.’ We sat on charming tables outside, and gorged on genuine wood-fired oven pizzas, devilled prawns, cannelloni, and other Puglia inspired delicacies. I could only wonder how life has taken a full circle. I first met chef Saha when he opened up the first Italian restaurant at The Park Hotel over two decades ago. We became fast friends and I was awe-struck at how many ardent fans he has who have followed his culinary journey from Italia, Caperberry, Fava and now Rosmarino! Viva chef Saha!
Susan Fernandes turned a milestone birthday into a crazy party with aplomb. One of the OG families from Bangalore, her party was full of song, great food and everlasting love. Never play a clown in someone else’s circus…IYKYK!
(The writer’s views are personal)
