5 Essentials

Just finished reading this excellent post by Richa Singh.  We are all creatures of habit and cannot do without things that are essential to us.  I won't go near food, clothes and shelter; just mention the other essentials that you want on you all the time.  Again, I won't mention house keys and money, these are rather mundane.  I choose to mention the essentials that define me.

My Phone:

This is going to pretty much on everyone's list.  Ever since the advent of mobile phones everyone pats their pockets to feel the familiar bulge before stepping out of house.  There are times when I have blanked out and reached office without mine.  It hasn't killed me so far but I do feel like I have left my baby at the railway station.  As soon as I get home, I pounce on my phone to find out what has been happening in my little world while I was away.

Internet:

I have mentioned this separately.  Phone is one thing, internet another.  It is hard to breathe in a non-wifi world.  At home, internet downtime on my laptop makes me feel like Robinson Crusoe watching the ship sail away without him.  Luckily, my son feels worse. He is on the phone with the provider before you can say Jack Robinson and giving them a dressing down for letting the internet drop.

I use a prepaid pack on my phone and the notification about its limits being reached throws me into a tizzy.  I am on to Paytm in no time for my recharge.  I could easily get into a rehab for internet addicts.

Pens and paper:

I must have, in my bag or on my person, a set of pens.  One just does not cut it.  I have to have at least four pens at a time.  I am a real pen-junkie.  Let me inside a stationary shop and I start fiddling with pens and buying a batch whether I need them or not.  They don't have to be expensive, just different.  I like using pens of colors other than the boring ink-blue.  I like keeping tiny notepads or a sheet of paper. Sometimes I fold a plain sheet of paper, cut it, and staple it to make a makeshift notepad.

Lip Balm and Hand Cream:

I am not big on make-up.  A bit of a cream for the face is enough for me.  I try to be regular on kajal but forget often.  BUT. Lip balm is another story.  I have four or five tubes of every hue of lip balm at various nooks and crannies of my house.  Near the television seat, my bed, in the drawer of my workstation, in my bag, on my dresser.  The very nanosecond my lips feel a little dry, I need a coat.  Similarly for hand cream, I need a bottle handy to slather on my hands whenever they feel even a little dry.

Water:

Water is my manna, my nectar.  It keeps me hydrated and well.  If I don't drink my requisite volumes, I fall ill.  I really do.  I have to have a bottle handy whenever I step out of the house.  If someone reports an illness, I always ask if they drink enough water.  Try it.

Because of my water-mania, shared by son, I have a number of fancy water bottles around the house.  I try to avoid plastic and drink off a steel bottle.  I would prefer glass but as they are breakable I avoid them.

Board Games - Snakes and Ladders, Ludo

In the 70s, we had board games like Snakes and Ladder and Ludo. I have played Chinese Checkers too at times.  I was introduced to Monopoly much later when my kids were small.  Other games like Scrabble, a big favorite of mine later, were not much in vogue during my childhood. Chess was never my cup of tea.

It was with great amusement that I downloaded Snakes and Ladders and Ludo in a mobile game format.  In Snakes and Ladders, if I play against the computer, all I have to do is to click the dice when my turn comes.  The game progresses on its own.  The dice moves on the board, goes up the ladders if it encounters one, slides down the snake if it happens to land on the mouth.  So I am just an idle watcher and clicker.  When I win or lose, I get a notification.  I feel quite useless really.

In the actual game, we got a large board which had these games printed on them.  We also got a tacky little box of dice and buttons to use while playing.  When we got bored of playing the right way, we invented other games.  

For instance, we would play with two buttons instead of one.  It had an advantage to it.  If the turn of dice could land our button on a snake, we could move the other button and save ourselves the ignominy of sliding down the snake.  The game was slower this way, but it gave us more options.

Another invention was to play it with snakes becoming the 'good guys'.  If we reached the tail of a snake, we would climb up to its mouth.  Similarly, if we encountered the top of a ladder we would groan because the new rule was to climb down the ladder.  It was fun when played like this.

Yet another invention was to start the game from 100 and make it a win if we reached 1 first.  When we encountered the tail of the snake we would slide up.  Similarly on encountering the top of ladder we would happily climb down.  Because you see, the 'down' was the new 'up.  All these inventions relieved the tedium of playing the same few games over and over again;

The mobile game app of Ludo is pretty good.  If I play against the computer, I still get to choose which button to move, which to stall and when to kill the buttons of my opposers.  I am pretty sure there is an app for scrabble game as well.  I must try that out.

Lesson in acceptance.

Jamnagar in the 1960's up to the 1980's when I left was mainly a vegetarian town.  It is a dry state, that we all know, thanks to Gandhiji.   Non-vegetarian food is not openly available.  Bread shops do not sport rows of eggs for sale.  Chicken is not available at any corner shop with a freezer.

Tandoori murgas on spits, hung out to marinade, is such a common sight in Delhi.  They amazed me when I looked at them when I started living in Delhi.

An acquaintance, a fellow Punjabi, ran a poultry farm.  Once in a while, on a Sunday, he would kill a tender goat and the meat would be distributed amongst the Punjabis in Jamnagar.  There was one restaurant, run by a Sikh, that served mutton on its menu.

I liked the mutton prepared by my aunt.  It was perfectly flavored and not too heavy with spices.  Where we lived, the aroma of cooking mutton spread and announced itself to our vegetarian neighbors.

I played with a couple of girls in our neighborhood that were close to my age.  We would get together every evening and play something, hide and seek, Stapu, play with a ball just run around.

I remember the day one of my playing companions asked me, distaste writ large over her face, "You eat meat, don't you?"  I quailed as I nodded.  The girl made noises of disgust.  At that moment, my other friend,  Malvika, said to her, "Don't do that.  It is food for her. Don't disrespect food."

That, right then, was the biggest example I got in acceptance.  I know what it is to be sidelined.  I grew up in a Hindu-majority State.  

In Jamnagar, Sikhs were mostly admired.  But there were some who felt weirded out by the turbans and long hair men sported.

There were people who hissed at me because I looked like a foreigner with my light skin and brown hair.

I know how important it is to be accepted for what you are.  I thank you Malvika for standing up to me then.  It was a lesson I have treasured all my life.