Our Earthly Father

He was not rich or famous. 
He had an amazing simplicity, a strong faith, and a ready smile. 
He also had a beautiful handwriting, an eye for detail, and an accuracy with numbers. 
He was respected by his children, adored by his friends, and loved by his wife. 
This was a man who had a great influence on my life. 

Early this month, I sent several messages and emails, almost mechanically, stating:

My father-in-law, Joseph, passed away peacefully.

I had imagined that it would be a difficult task. I had imagined that I would break down immediately when I got the sad news. I had imagined several ways that I and the rest of the family would react. 

Nothing of the sort happened. 

Time had prepared us for the end when it came. A strange peace and calm descended on us all as we went about the rites and rituals. We believed that his warmth and good will would be with us wherever we went. 

Our Daddy had influenced me in his own subdued way without even realising it. 

I must have been in my teens when I met him for the first time. He did not judge me for visiting his son at odd times in the day during those youthful foolish years when the mind refuses to listen to reason. Instead, he always had a kind word and a smile for me. 

He let me stay for as long as I liked and even invited me to join in the family prayers. He taught me how to pray. He showed me how to believe without seeing.  

The week after my wedding, I was perplexed by the awful task of eating a crab that was served for dinner at the family table. Daddy came to my side, patiently took the shell apart, and expertly removed the tender flesh. It was the most delicious shellfish I had ever had. 

A year after marriage, I was intrigued by the art of cooking in mud pots. I purchased a few of them from the Friday Bazaar. My mother-in-law and others thought it was a completely silly idea to cook in those pots on the gas stove and tutored me on how to use them. On the other hand, Daddy silently wove intricate stands from dried banana leaves to hold the pots. It was a gesture that really touched me.  Those life-buoy shaped stands were a piece of art themselves. 

On one of the darkest days of my life, as I lay struggling for survival in the hospital, Daddy came and sat next to me without saying anything. Just being there. He brought me tender green coconut water. 

When S and I brought our baby home for the first time, he came to the door to receive her with child-like excitement. He called out to his wife, "Teresa, come, see, our little chicken has come home!"

A few years later, when we came home for holiday, after facing a merciless summer in the middle east, we stood under the pouring monsoon rain in our front garden. Daddy watched but did not send out a warning of catching a fever or a cold. He understood our need to get drenched completely. 

S remembers his father as a strict disciplinarian. I, on the other hand, remember him as a Dad who let me enjoy the freedom that a daughter deserves. 

May his soul rest in eternal peace! Amen.

An Attempt at Upcycled Art

This is a brand new apartment in Baroda. Everything from the curtains to cutlery is new. 

Since S was posted here a couple of months back, he has opened only the packages of bare necessities. Most packages of household utilities still remain unopened. There is a section of the house that we call ‘the gift shop’ because we get to open items depending on our need or greed. 

On the day I arrived I opened the packaged boxes of cooking vessels, bed linen, bath towels, the list goes on. 

With so much discarded packaging material lying in the house, A and I decided fill up the empty house with some upcycled art. In turn, we are filling our days of vacation planning some exciting projects.

Then last week, we went shopping and purchased some ethnic garments for which Baroda is famous. The labels on the clothes had a pretty pattern and we didn’t have the heart to throw them away. 

Last Saturday we dined at Vishalla which is a rural-themed restaurant in Ahmedabad. They packed our leftover parathas in two plates of dried leaves and tied them up with a red-dyed cotton thread.

The next day we arranged the patterns of the labels in a floral arrangement and lined the ‘petals’ with the red-dyed thread. 

Behold! The effect was like patchwork fabric! So much for so less! Have a look…

Men on Planes

Picture courtesy: Google images

I like talking to strange men on airplanes. 

Recently, on a plane from Muscat to Ahmedabad, Anna and I found that our seats were oddly ordered. She had a window, next to hers was a seat for a stranger, and mine was the aisle seat. 

Since we had boarded early, we just trusted the kindness of strangers and took the two adjacent seats near the window. 

“Madam, may I see your boarding passes please?” asked Akshay Kumar.

The steward in uniform did indeed resemble the Bollywood star! For a moment I wondered whether I was on one of those candid camera shows. But no, everything was matter-of-fact and nobody else paid him any extra attention, so he must be just a steward.

Behind Akshay Kumar was a tall gentleman in a green checked cotton shirt. He held a heavy handbag. 

I fumbled for our boarding passes in my handbag and said, “Our seats are D and F, but you see, this is my daughter and she has a slight fever, so can we sit next to each other please?”

Akshay looked at the tall gentleman who nodded courteously. 

I took care not to rest my hand on the armrest on his aisle seat. 

He put his bag away and sat down without much fuss. Most men do not wiggle around much in their seats like women do. My neighbor sat still, not doing anything else. 

I had brought some fruit slices to eat on the plane which provided food on demand and payment.  It was a night flight and we had already had our dinner. I offered him the fruit. 

He said, “No, thank you.”

Then he asked, “Do you stay in Muscat?”

“Yes.”

“Since when?”

“Last eight years. How about you?”

“Only one year.”

That set the tone for our conversation. 

It turned out that his company supplied uniforms to various institutions. He was a garment manufacturer and supplier. Since he had grown up in Gujarat where the plane was headed, he gave me plenty of information about how people live in that region, what to eat, where to eat, places to visit….

He reminded me of other men I had met in mid-air. The elderly cardiologist who gave advice on how to live life in general, the thick-bearded English teacher from Oman who had completed his Master’s degree in Pune, the German young boy who taught me how to eat cold bread…

Yes, I like talking to men on the plane.

A Simple Story

Vaishali told me a simple story on Thursday that has still not left me. 

I told a modified version of the story to my daughter at bedtime yesterday.
This story will stay with me all my life like a burn mark that refuses to fade. Some stories are like that.

Here is the version that I told my daughter:

This is a story of a well-dressed man who is walking on a lonely road. 
After going some distance, he hears the footsteps of another person walking behind him. He senses that the other person was wearing shock-absorbing sports shoes and was walking briskly. 

Soon, Mr. Smart Shoes  overtakes our walking man. He breathes out a curt "Hi" as he passes by. Soon he is out of sight behind a clump of trees on a road bend.
Our walking man decides to walk briskly because he doesn't want to be left behind. His shoes are formal and not meant for sports. He is determined, for some reason, to overtake Mr. Smart Shoes. 

His walking pace increases and he begins to jog. When he catches sight of Mr Smart Shoes, he begins to run. Our man is breathless as he overtakes him. Mr Smart Shoes glances at him in admiration. A sense of pride and achievement washes over our man as he reaches ahead to the end of the road.

He kneels down in exhaustion as drops of sweat rush down his face and neck soaking his formal clothes. 
He notices his watch as he wipes the sweat from his face. 
It is then that he realises that he had to take a turn on the road to reach where he had set out to go.  
His destination lay elsewhere but in the heat of the competition, he had forgotten all about it. 

Ten Little Mermaids

Picture courtesy: Lama Mohammed Belal

On  24th May, the members of the Ras al Hamra Recreation Club (RAHRC) witnessed an exclusive spectacle as they assembled by the pool. 

Ten little mermaids between 6 to 11 years, demurely wrapped up in white towels, emerged at the poolside to present a Synchronised Swimming Show. With bright faces and cheerful smiles, they danced in the water displaying elaborate moves timed to catchy music. 

Synchronised swimming was called water ballet in its early years. It is a sport that requires advanced water skills, stamina, endurance, breath control, and grace. 

The two short pieces choreographed to popular numbers like Cotton-Eye Joe and Happy had the audience clapping and tapping their feet to cheer the girls. In one formation, a girl jumped off from the backs of two others who held the railings at the edge of the pool. The rest then dived in one by one to form a straight line and then split into two circles.  

A trio of girls completed the show by swimming to classical music. The girls displayed amazing control, teamwork, flexibility and strength. Their formations in water left the audience spellbound. 

 

A couple of hours earlier, in the green room, after the girls had had their waterproof makeup done and their hair gelled, their coach, Engy El Selouky, rehearsed the steps one last time:

“Eggbeater  1- 2 - 3 – 4    Eggbeater   5 - 6 - 7- 8...

Tub  2 - 3 – 4...  Tuck  2 - 3 – 4... ” 

During the Synchronised swimming course, the girls learnt some interesting new terminology including ‘sculls’ and ‘eggbeaters’! The ‘eggbeater’ is a kick that allows a swimmer to be upright in the water with one or both arms free to do the dance moves. 

During the routine, the girls did not touch the bottom of the pool for support but depended instead on sculling and eggbeaters to keep afloat and maintain their balance. 

The girls – Alix Dupont, Anna Lemos, Ella Wusten, Gargi Moghe, Hanna Van Doren, Julia van Bourgonje, Julia van Cuijck, Jumana Saada,  Maria Crampin, and Saskia Tromp, seemed to be in their element in the water. 

 

Picture courtesy: Lama Mohammed Belal

They had worked hard and practised the techniques thoroughly. It was a strange feeling for them when they had to wear rubber nose-clips for the first time to prevent water from entering their nostrils. Their hair was rolled up in buns and gelled by flavourless gelatine to keep it in place. They all wore matching fuchsia and black costumes and glitter ribbon sashes and hairpieces. The elaborate eye makeup enhanced their natural beauty. It was a proud moment for their families and friends. They celebrated by offering flowers to Engy and sharing a cake shaped like a pool!

Picture courtesy: Lama Mohammed Belal

Engy was visibly proud of her pupils too. Besides being a coach, she is a financial expert too. She has graduated from the American University in Cairo (AUC) with a Bachelor of Business Administration. She has done Master of Business Administration and CFA, and has worked as a Senior Credit Analyst in Egypt and the UK.

She started learning Synchronized Swimming at the tender age of eight and participated in several national competitions in Egypt. Her passion for the sport led her to train as an assistant coach in Egypt. In 2011, when she travelled to the UK, she joined the Queen Mother Sports Team as a synchro swimmer. She later coached girls under 18 years for local club competitions. 

In 2015, she joined the RAHRC and started training 6 to 11 year old girls.

Engy enthusiastically says, "This was the first time that synchronised swimming was introduced in Oman. When I first advertised for it in the RAHRC, 80 girls applied and they were all really interested. I did an assessment session for them to judge their water skills, and chose 10 girls to be trained once a week due to the limited timing available at the pool. I started training these girls since October 2015, and by the end of May, they did a wonderful show. As this was the first synchronized swimming show in Oman, I am really proud of these lovely girls."

The young ladies received their certificates of participation after the show. They showed the promise of untapped potential and superb aquatic skills.  

Picture courtesy: Lama Mohammed Belal

(Parts of this post were also published in The Oman Observer, Muscat Daily, and The Week, June 2016.)