Jiri Chahiye!

Can’t remember what triggered this memory, but today I was remembering my childhood days and my taste for jiri (sugar-coated fennel seeds) introduced to me by my chacha (father’s younger brother). Every single evening, I waited for my daily jiramin-dose, and no matter where we lived, Bombay or Pilani, my chacha on his way back from work unfailingly brought me a pudiya of jiri. I was a jiri addict with no hope of kicking the habit. The moment he walked in, my small hands stretching out in demand – jiri chahiye.

My chacha himself had, and also instilled in us, some particular habits – never to eat anything out in the open, never to shake-off water off wet hands, never to wipe wet hands on the clothes worn…. to name but a few. There was an episode from my childhood my bhuas (father’s sisters) reminisce…

A little background first… All my three bhuas were very possessive about me.. They would fight with each other for me, take turns to pick me up, sleep next to me in turns, take me to the market, and so on.

Now the episode:

One day, they took me to the market and bought me my favourite drug, jiri. Like a greedy pig, I poured the whole packet in my hand and was about to stuff my mouth with it when all of a sudden I saw my chacha coming from the opposite direction. I knew he didn’t like anyone eating on the streets/or out in the open/or under the sky. Seeing him, I got so frightened that my hand, that was close to my mouth, turned upside down (a knee-jerk reaction) with all my favourite stuff on the ground, mixed with the balu ret of Rajasthan. My bhuas still laugh when enacting the whole scene, but I don’t think it was funny losing my day’s quota of the delicious mithi-saunf. What a loss!!

The Moon….

…… is the best way to connect with my loved ones.

It transcends all other forms of communication.

It’s serene and restful.

My happy channel.

It is in no hurry to meet the Sun.

It’s with me during the most romantic time of day – the night.

It gives me a pacific smile as I look into its face, the mirror.

I ask if it can see my loved ones too.

“Yes, at the same time,” comes the reply.

I fix my gaze for the glimpse of them reflected in its face.

It’s the same moon that is with me as with them.

The sweet Moon of the night.

With me for 14 nights a month.

Sirius, its proxy, for the rest 14. But it’s rather slow in understanding my needs. Neither it knows how to smile, nor has a reflective face.

Overcast nights bring a lockdown.

I eagerly await the natural satellite, dubbed by me ‘the star of the night’, – the Moon.

It takes me to my loved one.

14 nights are better than none.

…. Sapna Dhandh Sharma

Image credit: History Channel.