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Showing posts from July, 2015

Pears and my Peeyar

The younger one dipped the Pears soap in a bucket full of water to see if it was actually transparent. I was raving mad at her for a moment. I love Pears soap but I don't like it all 'pichku' or soggy. Pears in my mind is still the most expensive, exclusive and classy soap. A Dove though more expensive, doesn't come close. May be because during my childhood, we used only Hamam soap. Green coloured soap bar which hardly melted when children dipped it in water. Ten of us in the joint family used one bar of soap till its almost last bit. There was no soap case in the bathroom. The soap was kept on a cemented shelf which was used to keep dirty clothes. One iron bucket, two separate taps for hot and cold water and one shower with only cold water. There was no Jaguar Mixer for the taps. The bath mug was plastic. This was just a bathroom without any toilet attached. I think it was a much cleaner concept. There was a largish ventilator window near the shower. The bathroom had…

My Parents' room

We grow up with memories and memories make us. Bedrooms have a special significance in our lives. In Jharia, they were called rooms not bedrooms. The servants/ house help would not understand if you said 'Clean my bedroom'. They understood instructions which said  " Sahab waala kamra saaf karna' which meant 'clean the master bedroom'. When my parents decided to put furniture in their bed room, it was a big event for all of us. Carpenters were called. Drawings were made. Dad got some furniture books from Kolkata or Delhi. We poured over them. Everything looked so complicated to make. Mom was clear that she will keep the two Godrej Almirahs in her room. Now the furniture had to be made around it. The furniture was made to divide room into a walk in wardrobe and a sleeping area. Since my parents bedroom was the biggest and quietest, the guests were almost always put up in that room along with them. A sofa cum bed with storage was built for this purpose. It was a…