Adhi Potoba

If you grew up in Pune you’d remember of a mildly annoying siren that would go off at 10:00 a.m. every day and last for a good 10 minutes. I never figured out what it was for, where it came from or if anyone was supposed to do anything about it. We just knew that it was there and we ignored it, much like the coloured ‘Terror Alert System" compliments of the Department of Homeland Security. The one thing I can always remember about it though was that when the ‘bhonga’ (as it was called) would go off aayi would be making her dabba of chapatis for the day. And during the holidays my brother and I would sit cross-legged on the cold floor of our humble dining-table-less kitchen and wait for aayi to give us a hot chapati slathered with some ghee and sugar and rolled up on dented steel plates. After a generous helping of chapati rolls, all young members of the galli would then emerge from their respective homes. for a good day of galli cricket. I have tried recreate that taste at home ma...

Keli chya baaga maama chya. Pivlya ghaada ni vakaychya. If you were in an English medium school and Marathi was a second language, you'd remember this poem from your Bal Bharati text book in Std II. It was a poem about the poet's uncle who apparently had some large banana plantations. The poem goes on to describe the how each member of the family tended to the banana plants and it all climaxed in a domestic orgy of Shikran. One may conclude that the uncle's family really, really loved their bananas. Had this poem come in at a slightly later year I am sure one of the pupils would have surely questioned such a banana centric lifestyle. Actually, it was a very sweet poem and whenever I think of Shikran, I cannot help but think of the nicely illustrated yet slightly exaggerated banana plants weighed down by large clusters of ripe yellow bananas. A well prepared bowl of Shikran never fails to transport me back to my mom's kitchen where she'd serve me Shikran and chapatt...