This is the blog of the Spicy Indian...

Sri Hanumate Namah

Hey, I am Shailendra.

:-) ... Well, now you know me ...
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A Fractured Acquittal...

It was the first year of my primary school. Was a day like any other. It was just past recess. I was back in the class after watching boys from my class play pakdapakdi (catch-n-cook). I remember D'Mello teacher had come into the class. She was a replacement for Gaekwad teacher, who had proceeded on long leave for some reason. I was quite fond of her, as were many boys of the class. She seemed to be very beautiful, and quite adorable, apparently contradictory to the quite strict Gaekwad teacher, who was our actual class teacher. There had been some incident. And I was paying good attention to the goings on, like all first standard boys do when the teacher is broaching some serious subject. SN had fractured his hand and the discussing was abouot how it happened, and who was responsible for it. Then PK stood up and said "It was Shailendra". This accusation struck me out of the blue; and I did not what to say, except for mumbling something like 'It was not me...". W...
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Aajikade jaaun yeto...

A branch from Ranade Road cuts in into Gokhale Road. And right in front of this T Section, is Krishna Kripa. Whether coming back from a brief spell of shopping at Ranade Road (which, along with the Shivaji Park is my favorite part of Central Mumbai), or coming back from the Dadar Railway Station, or station as we call it, 'Aajikade' was where we always had a stopover before heading to our 'extension' abodes. Seeing the silhoutte of Aaji standing by the balcony railing was always comforting sight. I used to wave from across the road. Aaji would strain to see who it was, from her first floor vantage point; and a smile crossed her face inevitably when she realised it was me. She used to respond with a calm, yet happy wave back, and moments later I would be scrambling my way up the stairs of Krishna Kripa. The stairs there make a rickety-rackety noise, thanks to one or two metal plates nailed to each step. Inside the house, there would be Aatya going about some work. You co...
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Incorrigibly Happy, and Perennially so...

They were more of them. But only three since I became aware of, and understood my emotional self. So, I write about the three only. But I surely do not intend to be unfair to the 4 others, three of them whom I never got to know. The three I was fortunate to have the company of, for significant years of my life were Aaji, BaalMama and Vishnumama. Aaji, my paternal Grandmother, and Baalmama and Vishnumama were her brothers. What is so different about them? Why do I write about them? They were ordinary persons, like the most of us. What was extraordinary about them,however, was that they remained incorrigibly happy throughout their lives. They never read Dale Carnegie, nor Deepak Chopra. I do not think the decision to remain happy was a conscious one. It was probably a state of mind they were born with. A point well mentioned is the sibling bonding between them. It is perhaps the joyful and contented attitude which forged this. And the bond remained strong throughout their lifetimes. ...
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