Thief of Baghdad or Barber of Baghdad

Baghdad

I remember the time when I went to school in New Delhi after returning from Baghdad and being ragged.
I was now the barber of Baghdad I had no idea how. So I let me go down memory lane to life in Baghdad before the oil crisis 1969 – 1972.
We went by ship from Bombay in the worst kind of ship ever…specially after the fabulous holiday on a French liner earlier in 1966. This ship was tiny….a British India ship. We sailed to Karachi…did not really stop there for long ….then proceeded to Muscat which look oh so beautiful from a distance….and our ship remained far away from the port….then we stopped at all the UAE ports where there was nothing beyond US navy ships. Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Doha. Crates were unloaded and we moved on. It was the month of July. Still air and very hot…we kids had enough to do. Spoke to deck passengers…some were hippies I think. Bengalis with long hair singing Rabindra Sangeet and Beatles hits. Gosh..had I been older and better versed on these I might have been able to talk to them about music. That was yet to happen. One Bengali deck passenger (more like a stowaway was constantly singing and chatting with us kids…..much later in life I realized that they were adventurers on a boat off to great experiences as travelers. The only port which has some sign of civilization was Kuwait. We did spend a few hours there and then headed to Basrah our final destination. The journey was nothing more than 45 degreesstill air day and night. My parents were unnerved …just back from two years in Vietnam in the thick of war. We, the kids, were bored to death….Dinner with the captain didn’t impress us one  bit. We were happy watching cargo being unloaded and loaded. Huge crates swinging in and out of the ship’s hold.
In Basrah, we ended up at the Indian Association Club rooms for the night and then took a great railway journey, first class to Baghdad. They gave us blankets and food….never heard of in Indian railways those days ….am told the Indians built their railways….pretty good job. Once in Baghdad, we went to the home designated for us. A three storey house with 5 bedrooms and a terrace – a stone’s throw from my dad’s office – the Indian Embassy – a rather impressive building next to the Ambassador’s residence which was incredibly fancy with its artifacts and fancy furniture and two great cooks who had the best collection of film songs that they shared with us. They came to our home, whenever they were free to teach my mom some amazing dishes and desserts. ...
more to follow......sooooon

Vietnam1967-68 part one

I am moving to Vietnam now ..1967 December.
I was living with my grandparents and uncles in Calcutta. Christmas holidays ...am packed off to Saigon . My aunt and uncle take me to Dum Dum Airport late at night ...put me on a Lufthansa flight ...I had never been on a plane before ...it was always by train or by sea.
I had tears in my eyes ...an 8 year old travelling alone to meet parents and kid brother ...On the flight, the airhostess was very kind gave me story books and games. We reached Bangkok, where my parents' freinds ...an old Bengali couple took care of me for many many hours till my next flight by Thai International to Saigon. Again, the airhostess was very kind and I had the best food ever ...I had tasted many cuisines by then and believe me ...it was delicious..and again they gave me toys and books and bracelets. I sat by the air-hostess all the way to Saigon.

Once we landed, I was dying to see my kid brother, who I had not seen for over a year. So when my dad came to receive me, my first question was Bhai kothai (where is my brother ) and there was by bro . 2 year old ,  running helter skelter all over the airport as if he owned the place.
The next few weeks were good fun....meeting my dad's colleagues and their families ...all part of the UN Commission for Supervision and Control ( India, Poland and Canada ) We went to Cambodia as well with my dad's army colleagues ...A trip to Angkor Vat . Historical ...amazing piece of architecture...never ending corridors ...depicting stories from the Mahabharata ...very tiring for a kid at that time ...but today I can still smell the old walls....feel the carvings...
Back to Saigon ... My mom and dad played tennis often ...I would watch them and play badminton with someone who was trying to keep me busy ....
More to follow !!!!

Oh Calcutta!

Was back in Calcutta /Kolkatta after a long long time this February...for a friend's son wedding...
Everything on the way hit me....the deafening sounds at the Howrah station...the crowds on the way to my friend's place off Salt lake....I did find my way...spoke to my Mamu on the way to get the directions...

The wedding before and after were just the most amazing times with all friends and family..
So much to see...so much to remember from my days in Calcutta in '67 68....That was another time another place.

I lived in Calcutta with my uncles aunts grandparents and cousin while may parents were in Vietnam. My dad got a posting there ..and he went with my mom and baby bro...i was old enough to attend school in Calcutta...since no schools were functioning in Saigon....remember that was 67-68...war zone...
Well...I did live there and loved every moment....My dida ...dadu and my mamus and mamis (grandparents, uncles aunts)  and my kid cousin...her pet name Tota....she talked non stop at a very young age (around 2-3 years old) so she was called Tota..(parrot) .

I had several other grand uncles aunts and many more uncles and aunts - my mom's cousins , my father's sisters and their families. We met often for birthdays, festivities and weddings in the family. My uncles and aunts left no stone unturned to keep me in busy with lots of activities to keep me from thinking of my parents and my brother who were in Vietnam.

Indian Railways

The journey from Bombay to Calcutta in 1966 was memorable....The only thing I knew about India, thanks to Japanese TV was poverty and misery....but on that journey what I noticed at age 7....was beautiful landscapes....smiling people at railway stations.....great food....
And I told my mom and dad....India to eto bhalo....(India is so great...)

In Bombay/Mumbai, we stayed at a hotel in Marine Drive...Big rooms, high ceilings...and of course lovely view of the sea...
Am trying to remember the details on the train....we had our own coupe for the family....
The countryside through the train window was a feast ...I laapeed it all up and asked by parents why they talked such bad things about India on Japanese TV.
The train chugged along right through from Bombay ...through Central India upto Howrah Station.
Howrah was scary ....very noisy and crowded....my mamus(uncles) came to the platform to whisk us away in a delapidated taxi through narrow cnoisy streets after crossing Howrah Bridge.
Once at my grandparents home in South Calcutta nest to a pond(pukur) full of noisier ducks...we were treated to plates full of the best veggies and fish that Bengal could offer....not that I made a difference to me. I was just enchanted by the coconut trees, the pond, the ducks, the cows ...the vegatable garden....
The following two years ...studying in a local missionary school and spending magical days and weeks  in and around my grandparents house were some of the best days of my life.

Travellin by sea on a French Liner from Kobe to Bombay

My dad's tenure at the Indian Consulate, Kobe, ended in mid-Septermber 1966 and we got onto a French Liner to come back to India (my dad and his colleagues of course called it Headquarters). That was one of the most memorable moments of my childhood. The voyage on the liner was just mindblowing.....the liner had several levels, economy class, luxury class, 2 swimming pools, a game and reading room, on each level, deck chairs everywhere.....fussball which me and my dad would play often. My own Titanic experience. Fancy dining hall.....huge....with gourmet French cuisine. Of course, me and my baby brother had the soup, pasta and some pieces of chicken and fish most of the time. I made friends with a Japanese team of table tennis players who were coming to Bombay.They were good at origami and made me at least 6-7 dozen cranes of all colors. I was so overwhelmed with their gift. We got along well since I spoke fluent Japanese those days and I spent lot of time with them when I was not at the pool or playing on the deck.....
We stopped at several ports...Manila, Hongkong, Singapore, Bangkok and Colombo before reaching Bombay.
Hongkong was scary with its tall buildings, since I had spent the last three years in a quiet neighbourhood of double storey houses with tiles roofs. Manila I dont recall too much except for the heat and humidity . Singapore...... it was raining all night....and we did not get a chance to visit an sites and instead went to meet a Bengali family , friends of m parents.
Bangkok was a great experience ....I loved the floating markets....and the food.....
Colombo too was pleasant.
After Colombo the sea got rough as it was the tail end of the monsoon season. The huge liner started rolling and we were all forced to stay indoors. In fact, the dining hall had to close since everthing was falling off the plates and bowls....which were clamped to the table. My mom got seasick...but I was all over the corridors.....visiting my Japanese friends in their cabins.
When we finally reached Bombay , we stayed at a quaint hotel on Marine Drive...with huge rooms, high ceilings, very wide stairecases.....lovely building....constructed in the thirties or forties.

So began my first memories of India....
I had left at the age of four and had no recollection at all except one vague memory of my grandma giving me a bath in Calcutta....have posted one on Vietnam..

Strawberry fields forever ......

While in school in Kobe, we once went for a strawberry picking expedition.....absolutely delightful...

With a straw hat to keep away the sun, me and my classmates with our teacher..... reached the strawberry fields and plucked strawberries... filled our baskets.....I shall never forget that day.....
Just like I will not forget the summer holidays when my dad would take me swimming.....my mom couldn't come since she had to take care of the little baby.....but me and my dad had a blast at the swimming pool and then he would treat me to a hot hot or some delicious cheese sandwich.....

I couldn't swim much yet .....but I did manage to waddle in the kiddies pool......My dad was from the backwaters of the Ganges delta....so he would just vanish to one of the larger pools for the adults in the complexe to get a proper swim....while I waddled where I was.....

Back home, I would try to act as important as possible and tried to do things for the little baby brother.....feed him......push the pram around in the courtyard.....keep him busy in the cot....with toys.....I was always excited when my parents' friends would come over to see the baby and give a gift....usually a toy....which I would obviously play with.....once the guests left............life was just great those days in Japan.....I think I spent one of the best phases of my life there.....the next step was moving to India.....n new place for me........In September 1966, shortly after my brother's first birthday we boarded the French Liner "Cambodge" on a delightful journey to Bombay via Manila, Hongkong, Bangkok etc......Watch out for the next episode guys....... :-)

Japan relived

Japan continued....
School was great in Japan. It wasn't far from home and my dad used to drop me before going to work. I made lots of friends....Yuko, Yumi....Most of our classes were in English since it was an American missionary school. We had one class to learn japanese. I did struggle with the writing but I could speak fluently. There was one thing I loved to do.....forget my lunch box...then my class teacher would order a noodle soup which was so delicious. At times the other option was a hot dog....equally delicious.
The Annual Day in school meant doing something special. And my parents as true diplomats thought the best thing was to dress me in a saree with jewellery and send me for the annual day function. I know it worked. There was a Scottish boy who came dressed in his kilt. My parents have albums full of pictures of my school events and other memorable moments in their lives in Japan. .....
There was this sweet old man who used to visit us on Sundays...He had worked in India during the ears before Independance I think he was English or American. ......He would get gifts and spent the afternoon watching golf on TV with my dad while they had a few glasses of beer followed by a delectable meal.
My parents bought me an organ....not a piano but an organ like the kind you see in a church. I was too young to learn it. I just pretended to play something on it....
My mom, in the meantime, learnt machine knitting, Ikebana and doll making...Japanese dolls of course....the kind you display in your drawing room.
Then after two years there was a huge change in our lives. My kid brother was born. I was so excited when i saw him in along with so many japanese babies at the hospital. We brought him back and then, one day after he came there was this huge...ok maybe not huge...but an earthquake anyway....we were used to these small tremors....and the thick crust of the wall fell on the bed just a few inches from him.....small baby on the bed next to my mom. Oh my goodness.....that was some drama. The houses in Kobe and similar places where made to resist to such quakes....and so just the one inch crust tumbled....but even that could have killed a 4 day old baby. Luckily it all turned out well and I was delighted to have a real doll in the house....to play with....when authorized under supervision at the age of six. I would sulk at times of course since I felt neglected....there are pictures of that too. My dad took pics all the time....to capture those moments....and even today I love to go through his albums.