The tastes of childhood

They persist even when you are all grown up...

They say that your tastebuds are formed in childhood. That it is the tastes you were weaned on that are the ones that remain your favourites no matter how old you get. 

That is certainly true in my case. I only started eating meat in my mid-twenties when I met my now-husband. And while I enjoy a kakori kebab and a mutton biryani as much as the next person, given a choice I will still choose a vegetarian dish when I eat out. That’s the taste I grew up with; and that’s the taste I go back to every time, despite the occasional experiment with a prawn balchao or a pork sausage. 

More specifically my taste buds were formed in Calcutta (as it was called then) and those are the tastes I still hanker for. Give me a bag of jhaal muri or a helping of puchchkas and I get absolutely delirious with joy. I love a ghee-soaked khichdi along with some aloo posto. And whenever I am craving comfort those are the dishes I fall back on. (The choco-bars of my early years have now become Magnum classics — but they remain the taste of childhood to me.)

But thinking about it the other day, I realised that it’s not just your taste buds that are formed in your childhood. Some habits are also hard wired into you from the time when you were growing up. And these formative experiences form the basis of your adult life, even though you might be unaware of it on a conscious level. 

Take my love of gardens and parks, which I have written about often in this column. It can’t be a coincidence that I spent my childhood making regular visits to the Botanical Gardens in Calcutta. Almost every other weekend would be spent picnicking on the grounds in the shade of the giant banyan tree with family and friends. I am pretty sure it is those childhood memories that are imprinted on my mind which make me such a regular at Sunder Nursery or Lodi Garden or — for that matter — in any park in a city I happen to visit. There is nothing I love more than losing myself amidst the foliage, marvelling at the trees and revelling in bird song. 

My reading tastes are also a holdover from my growing years. Whenever I am looking for a comfort read I head straight for my childhood favourites like Agatha Christie, Georgette Heyer or Jane Austen. Murder mysteries — and by extension, spy thrillers — are my go-to reads even now. And I love period dramas set in the English countryside, preferring them over more contemporaneous stories. So yes, my favourite kind of book is a murder mystery set in an English stately home. And of course, my favourite series are those like Downton Abbey which faithfully recreate that period. 

And then, there is my habit of reading myself to sleep. No matter how tired I may be, no matter how long the day has been, it never truly ends for me until I have spent half an hour reading under the covers. My inner child still needs that bedtime ritual to fall asleep. 

Spring has sprung

And it’s time to make the most of it, before it dissolves into summer

Every year, as the days get longer and warmer, I make a resolution: to make the most of the short-lived Delhi spring. And short-lived it most certainly is, dissolving into summer in the blink of an eye. I often say that living in Delhi means having the heater on one week and then switching on the AC the next. So, if you are going to enjoy the nano-second that spring lasts, then you better have your to-do list ready and be quick about ticking off all the items.

First on my list this year was an item that I have been putting off for way too long: a visit to Humanyun’s Tomb. I finally managed that last evening, going the whole hog and hiring a guide to make the most of the trip. My husband and I ended up spending a few hours in the complex, exploring every monument in sight, watching the sunset and the moonrise as we walked around the sylvan grounds. There was a cool breeze blowing and spring flowers blooming, and it was possible to forget all about the pandemic and pretend that all was right with the world.

That’s the magic of the Delhi spring. For the few weeks it lasts, it makes up for the bitter indignities of winter and harsh humiliations of summer that we have live through. The trick lies in making the most of it, so that you store up enough memories to carry you through for the rest of the year.

So here, in no particular order, are just some of the things that you could try and accomplish in this brief season.

• Have a blooming good time: Quite literally, that is. This is the period when all the roundabouts and parks in the capital are heaving with magnificent spring blooms. So, if you are driving everywhere, keep your eyes peeled for the splash of colour that they provide. Better still, visit your local nursery and pick up a few pots of salvia, cineraria, fuchsia or whatever else catches your eye to brighten up your balcony, terrace, or garden.

• Travel back in time: They say that at least seven cities once flourished on the site where Delhi now stands; and each one of them has left some evidence behind. This is the best time to explore that heritage. You can do the rounds of the usual suspects: Qutub Minar, Red Fort, Purana Qila, Safdarjung’s Tomb, all of which are much less crowded these days because there aren’t any foreign tourists in the mix. Or you could go totally off the beaten track and explore the lesser-known monuments in the city, where it will be easier to socially distance from your fellow citizens.

• Parks and Recreation: This is the best time of year to visit such parks as Sunder Nursery and Lodi Gardens. Take a brisk walk around to enjoy the spring flowers, and then find a shady corner to settle down with a nice book or a picnic. But hurry, because the rest of the city will have had the same idea, and it’s the early bird who will bag the best location. 

• Eating out: If a picnic in a public area does not appeal in the time of Covid, don’t worry. There are plenty of other options for al fresco dining in the city. Choose a restaurant that does outdoor seating and enjoy the last few days of balmy sunshine. Or simply throw your last barbeque of the season, hosting your friends and family in your garden or your terrace. 

• Spread your wings: If you have done all you could in the city, then head a little further out to make the most of the decent weather. You can still squeeze in a skiing vacation in Gulmarg, making the most of the snow before it finally melts. These are the last few weeks you can vacation in Rajasthan before the heat makes it all but impossible. And this is possibly the best time to visit game sanctuaries across the country.

But don’t worry if you can’t squeeze all of this into the remaining spring days. Just do as much as you can, and store the rest away for the following year. Because if winter comes, can spring be far behind?

Up the garden path

Falling in love in the times of Corona

Dear readers, I have a confession to make. I have been unfaithful. Over the last few weeks, I have been cheating on my long-time love on a regular basis. And what’s worse is that I don’t feel the least bit guilty about it.

Well, partly, at least it is the fault of my long-time love, or as you may know it, Lodi Garden. Once the lockdown was relaxed in Delhi and it was possible to go for a walk in its sylvan surroundings, I excitedly donned my sneakers and mask and headed out for my evening constitutional.

Suffice to say that it didn’t go well. Even though I went in the late afternoon, when the park is usually relatively empty, this time around it was teeming with people. I may have made my peace with that if it hadn’t been for the fact that about 50 per cent of these people were not wearing masks (or had them dangling from their ears or draped around their necks). So, I spent all my time gesturing to them to put their masks on properly, or asking them to do so in my most polite tones. Of course, nobody paid the least attention.

So, after a traumatic 45 minutes of this, I finally gave up the good fight and headed back home, convinced that I had contracted Covid because of my love for Lodi Garden.

Two weeks on, it was clear that I hadn’t been infected with anything other than a seering distaste for repeating that experience. That’s when I turned my lusty gaze to another beauty that had been hovering on my horizon for a while. I speak, of course, of Sunder Nursery.

Sprawling across 90 acres and boasting of manicured lawns, wild woodland areas, sparkling water bodies, effervescent fountains, and historic monuments, this green wonderland had been sending out its siren call to me with every picture I saw on Instagram. So, I finally gave in to temptation and headed there one evening.

Would you consider me a promiscuous so-and-so if I say that it was love at first sight? Would you judge me if I said that the wonder that is Sunder Nursery drove the amazing beauty of Lodi Garden right out of my mind? Would you call me a faithless lover because I switched allegiance in the course of one evening?

Well, never mind, I will take the name calling in my stride. And that’s because the stunning splendor of my new love more than makes it worth my while. 

For one thing, there’s the fact that the gardens are blissfully empty compared to crowded pathways of Lodi Garden (the entrance fee may have something to do with it). There are vast, empty stretches where you don’t see another human being for ages. So, it’s perfectly safe to remove your mask for a few minutes to breathe in the air redolent with the smell of freshly cut grass or the scent of petrichor. I can’t begin to describe what a luxury it is in these times of Corona to have the breeze waft gently against your naked face and have the sun kiss your entire visage.

Just like Lodi Garden, here too the landscape is littered with historical monuments that have been painstakingly restored. So, when the heat becomes too much, you can take refuge in the cool interiors of these centuries old structures, and bathe in the aura of antiquity they exude.

And then, there are the birds. There is, in fact, an entire habitat that has been given over to peacocks, where you can sit around and watch them frolic. If you are patient, you may be lucky enough to see a peacock unfurl his feathers and honour you with a private dance performance.

It’s not just peacocks and peahens, either. The grounds are littered with birds with brightly coloured plumage (one day I will find out what they are all called). And if you stay late into the evening, you don’t even need to plug in your earphones and listen to music. You can, instead, revel in the sound of birdsong.

So, are you surprised that I am in love? Yes, I guessed not.