Sunny boy started school today. My little baby rode on the school bus all by himself, I mean neither me nor Honey were with him. It was a mixed feeling. A was going through a gamut of emotions. My little baby did not need me as much as he did when he was say 2 years old. There is a degree of pride when I see him pick up his back ease his tiny feet into his shoes and walks to the door. At the same time, a part of me cries and cringes that my baby is now a boy, not the tiny little bundle in my arms that could stare into for hour. Like the little bird who has mastered the art of flying, he too one day will fly away from me in the quest for his life.
It is when I am under such emotional duress that my heart starts to ache, remembering people who never came back. It does not help that living here in NJ so close to New York city, September is a brutal month, at least the first two weeks are. Deliberate switching off the TV or avoiding the news papers, is not really enough to escape the 9-11 tragedy. It somehow hangs around like an apparition. The other day I saw this on the notice board of a local church "Grief Share starts Sep 10, 6 PM". For a moment I was wondering what it could be, before it hit me that it is September. And then there are the local memorials, which gets drenched in tears around this time of the year. Of course it is this time of the year that my eye start catching "We remember", " We will never forget.." and such. I do not know if my mind is unconsciously playing the trick or if it really happens at this of the year. No September 11 has been a normal day for me ever since I came to this country. Somehow a tragedy of this extent feels way more painful here. May be it is the way they remember indeed. Many more people have died back home say due to natural calamities, insurgency and of course terrorism. They have all been equally painful, but grief is not public back home, it is personal, it is got nothing to do with our collect psyche as a society. But here it is a fully public grief share and re-living the memories of those who never came back on a very typical balmy feeling summer day. We have friends who worked there but were caught in the traffic jam and thankfully never made it to their office. We know of people who were in the building a few hours before the incident happened and could not believe what happened a few hours, minutes after they left. We know people who worked there, safely made it out even as the building smouldered on at the top and never had the nerve to go back to the highrises of the city. All these somehow hits so hard.
On the contrary the Mumbai terror attacks have all but forgotten. I remember what I was doing as the tragedy unfolded, just like I remember that day when I heard what happened in NYC on that fateful day. Perhaps we all do. You cannot forget the moment something so disturbing happens. But Mumbai terror attacks were soon forgotten. We do not remember the victims any more. All I can see is may be a small article in some news paper. No public grief share, no public tribute and not much impact on the collective Psyche of the city. I do salute the resilience of the city, it is perhaps a different way of coping up with a tragedy like that, to move on.
The difference how it is treated here and back home are however very stark. Ultimately, why it happened does not matter. All that matters is that people never came back because of some one amongst us was crazy.
After all this let us go back to Khoa Kobari Peda, a nice tribute to all our dear departed as well as our Pitru's (ancestors). The timing could not have been right 9-11 and Pitrupaksha coinciding.
We will need,
Khoa (the moist variety ) grated 1 cup
Sugar 1/2-3/4 cup
Evaporated milk 1 can (the small one)
Kopra /dessicated coconut 1/4 cup
Ghee 2 tbsp
Method:
It is when I am under such emotional duress that my heart starts to ache, remembering people who never came back. It does not help that living here in NJ so close to New York city, September is a brutal month, at least the first two weeks are. Deliberate switching off the TV or avoiding the news papers, is not really enough to escape the 9-11 tragedy. It somehow hangs around like an apparition. The other day I saw this on the notice board of a local church "Grief Share starts Sep 10, 6 PM". For a moment I was wondering what it could be, before it hit me that it is September. And then there are the local memorials, which gets drenched in tears around this time of the year. Of course it is this time of the year that my eye start catching "We remember", " We will never forget.." and such. I do not know if my mind is unconsciously playing the trick or if it really happens at this of the year. No September 11 has been a normal day for me ever since I came to this country. Somehow a tragedy of this extent feels way more painful here. May be it is the way they remember indeed. Many more people have died back home say due to natural calamities, insurgency and of course terrorism. They have all been equally painful, but grief is not public back home, it is personal, it is got nothing to do with our collect psyche as a society. But here it is a fully public grief share and re-living the memories of those who never came back on a very typical balmy feeling summer day. We have friends who worked there but were caught in the traffic jam and thankfully never made it to their office. We know of people who were in the building a few hours before the incident happened and could not believe what happened a few hours, minutes after they left. We know people who worked there, safely made it out even as the building smouldered on at the top and never had the nerve to go back to the highrises of the city. All these somehow hits so hard.
On the contrary the Mumbai terror attacks have all but forgotten. I remember what I was doing as the tragedy unfolded, just like I remember that day when I heard what happened in NYC on that fateful day. Perhaps we all do. You cannot forget the moment something so disturbing happens. But Mumbai terror attacks were soon forgotten. We do not remember the victims any more. All I can see is may be a small article in some news paper. No public grief share, no public tribute and not much impact on the collective Psyche of the city. I do salute the resilience of the city, it is perhaps a different way of coping up with a tragedy like that, to move on.
The difference how it is treated here and back home are however very stark. Ultimately, why it happened does not matter. All that matters is that people never came back because of some one amongst us was crazy.
After all this let us go back to Khoa Kobari Peda, a nice tribute to all our dear departed as well as our Pitru's (ancestors). The timing could not have been right 9-11 and Pitrupaksha coinciding.
Khoa (the moist variety ) grated 1 cup
Sugar 1/2-3/4 cup
Evaporated milk 1 can (the small one)
Kopra /dessicated coconut 1/4 cup
Ghee 2 tbsp
Method:
- On a hot skillet, toast the dessicated coconut till the coconut is slightly golden and aromatic. Remove it on to a cool plate and set it aside.
- Heat ghee in a thick bottomed pan. Throw in the Khoa. Keep stirring till it changes colour to slightly golden. This takes a while.
- Pour in the evaporated milk and sugar. Cook till the sugar is well incorporated and the mixture comes together into a ball.
- Remove from heat. Once it is cool enough to handle, pinch lime sized balls of the khoa mixture and roll it in the toasted coconut mixture.
- Set the coconut coated khoa balls in a tray and air dry for a few hours till the Pedas harden slightly. serve at room temperature.
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