It’s all in the crunch

celery Oma, my mom, watched me chop celery.

“So nice,’ she sighed.

“What is?” I asked.

“The celery,” she said, “ makes a nice koch-koch noise when you cut it. So fresh.”

I shrugged. “It’s just celery.”

“You should see the celery we get in India,”  Oma said,  “thin and stringy, like lizard tails. Everything is so healthy in America. The people with big, white teeth saying “have a nice day.” Even the garbage man who drives the truck with the crab claw to lift your bin, smiles and waves. And do you know what that carpet cleaner man said to me yesterday?”

“No, what?”

“He said ‘take care’. Take care.”

I looked at her, puzzled. “He finished his work and he was leaving. So?”

Oma shook her head. “You are not understanding me. He did not say bye-bye. He did not say ta-ta. He said take care. Now isn’t that nice?”

I snorted. “That doesn’t mean a thing, Oma. It’s like saying bye-bye or ta-ta. That’s just how they speak here.”

“Not at all,” Oma retorted. “Take care is what you’d say to your old auntie or grandmother. It shows love and concern for an elderly person. I thought it was very nice of him to say “take care,” but then the poor fellow was in such a hurry, he forgot to drink his tea.”

“That’s the other thing I want to tell you,” I said, “don’t go serving tea and Marie biscuits to workers. They don’t have time to drink tea and chat about their family. Also I overheard you ask him all kinds of personal questions. You don’t ask “are you married?”, “how many children do you have” etc. He must have thought you were being terribly nosy.”

“What’s so wrong? In India, the garbage man, the driver, the newspaper man– whoever comes to my house are given tea. I know all about their families and everything. The driver’s mother-in-law has a goiter on her neck–-”

“People don’t talk about their mother-in-law’s goiter in America. Everybody’ s in a big hurry. Time is money.”

Oma threw up her hands. “Too much hurry, hurry here. You have everything. Big house. Machine for this, machine for that. Small, small gadgets that go peep-peep, ting-ting. You have blacktooth and blueberry, i-ping and you-pong, but what’s the use? Nobody has any time! Why? You don’t even have to get out of your car to open your garage door. If Rekha, my maid saw that garage door open by itself, she would think it was a ghost and run screaming for her life.”

I laughed. It was true. Automatic garage doors are still uncommon in India.

“The other day, your dear husband forgot where he parked his car in the mall,” continued Oma. ” Now, what will you do, I asked.  Don’t worry, Oma, he said, I will call the car and it will answer me. “Hey car?”, he called, just like that, and the car honked back and even winked its lights. Imagine a car answering a human? In India even humans don’t answer humans. Too much noise.”

“He’s pulling your leg, Oma. He must have pressed the car key in his pocket.”

Too pretty to eat
Too pretty to eat

Oma ignored me and waved at the fruit bowl sitting on the countertop. “Look at all this nice fruit and nobody to eat it. No time, No time. Hurry, hurry, hurry.”

“Why don’t you eat some?”

“How much can I eat by myself? Too many different things to eat in this house, I get confused. I sit down to cut an apple and you say eat the grapes. Then your husband says, eat the melon, eat this, eat that. Before you know it everything gets moldy and you have to throw it all away. Then back we go again to Costco and load up another shopping cart the size of a rickshaw with more fruit.”

“That reminds me there are strawberries in the fridge. Don’t forget to eat those.”

“I know. I took them out of the box and looked at them.”

“What? Have they spoiled already?”

“No, no, the opposite. They are too beautiful to eat just now. I just like to look at them. I will eat them when they get a little soft.”

“What is the point in getting you fresh strawberries, then?

Oma admiring her rose garden.  This photo was taken when she was much younger.
Oma admiring her flowers. This photo was taken when she was much younger.

“Feasting is for the eyes as well as the stomach. I have never seen such big, perfect strawberries in my life. I just want to admire them for a while. They are God’s miracle.”

Man’s miracle is more like it. I hate to disillusion you but those strawberries must be full of the steroids, hormones or whatever junk they put in them.”

“What is steroids?”

“Something that makes you look healthy when you are not.”

“How can you look healthy if you are not healthy? Sickly people you can always tell. They are thin and malnourished. They have no energy. They look like the lizard-tail celery.”

“Here the sick people look like the strawberries, the healthy ones are thin and stringy like your lizard-tail celery.”

“That makes no sense,” Oma frowned. “I hate to say this, but America has made you into a very cranky person. All the time, this is not right, that is not good, grumble, grumble, never happy with anything. You should hear yourself sometime. Crease marks are appearing on your forehead. It is not very becoming.”

“I am just telling you the facts,” I said, glancing at the clock. I pulled off my apron and grabbed the car keys. “I must run to the post office. I’ll be back. Why don’t you eat some strawberries?”

“Alright”

“And ….” I turned and waved, “take care!”

NOTE (updated 19th June, 2013) Sadly, the following year, Oma departed for her orchard in the sky. These are my fond recollections from her last visit to the US and our lively conversations in my kitchen. Oma was eighty when she died. 

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Shona Patel’s debut novel “Teatime for the Firefly” (Harlequin/Mira) slated for release  October 1, 2013 is currently available on pre-order (with guaranteed delivery by 24th September) from major retailers in several countries. You can read the Synopsis and First Chapter here.

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32 thoughts on “It’s all in the crunch

  1. Oh what fun! Visits with Oma that is. Having visited with Oma maybe twice or so myself, I can tell you it is as if we had been long time friends. I will always treasure her “acquaintance”. Truly, I am a better person for it.

    Thanks, for the reminder, Shona.

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  2. And it made me feel sad. She’s right. you know, your wise Oma! The tomatoes look great but they just don’t taste like tomatoes I remember, the bananas look perfect but aren’t as sweet. And the less said about the i-ping-pongs the better.

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    1. Yes, the dichotomy of modern life – when perfect outside is is not perfect inside and time wasted is time well spent and when somewhere along the way we lose our humanity. Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

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  3. o my ! if my grandma ever came to visit , she would be saying the same things …. this post made me chuckle. the chai to the workers so resonated with me, the first time i had repair works done in my house in canada I wondered the same things.
    What a lovely post Shona …..
    ………take care ……. 🙂

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    1. Haha! The do’s and don’ts of America. They are subtle cultural cues that are such a mystery to immigrants like us. Nobody else will understand this. Cheers!

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    1. Sadly, Oma passed away. I just added a small note to the above post. I know I still talk like she is alive. In my heart and mind she will always be. Thanks for visiting my blog. Keep well. Shona

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  4. Very nicely written! Totally can understand how Oma felt – I came to San Francisco last year and have had a very similar experience! I think its the people around us who tend to influence our thinking and perceptions of things. A very good perspective to life given by Oma – we need to be more in sync with our surroundings and grateful for so much stuff that we have in our lives.

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    1. Sylheti is such a phonetic language. Here are some of my other favorites – choi-choi, dhum-dham, bokor-bokor, ting-tingay (as in thin) dhopash (as in falling down) – oh I can go on! Cheers!

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  5. You can see the change every where….even in India…people have no time…
    Precious memories spent with special people from a different world…nostalgia.

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  6. Would have loved to meet Oma, her observations are spot on. Being retired is so much easier, more time to speak to folk of the same age I’ve never met before…this in USA or Australia. Glad to see Oma is still alive in your mind.

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  7. This brought back happy memories of working with Indian colleagues in Iran and Saudi. Our Westernised rush and bustle isn’t to do with recent electronics (though they don’t help) – my memories date back to the late 70s. I think we have been conditioned to treat people far too incidentally. (I’m English, not American, but anywhere that the consumer society has taken over shows it). Perhaps it is television – the inability to sit and talk with real people, instead of immersing oneself into an idealised fantasy world. OK – that is what good novels do, but they invite you to create the visual imagery and develop the characters. Thomas Hardy stories reveal a Western world that did take time to care for others – have we just been pressurised by our peers not to care any more?
    Your sketch is a lovely creation – you have the wonderful balance between your lovely Mother’s comments and your own responses. Well done!

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  8. Oma was a beautiful soul. Pure and simple (and I mean this as a compliment) in her thoughts.

    Looking forward to reading your novel. Have pre-ordered it. 🙂 Good luck with it.

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  9. Your book is just amazing – it is the kind of book where I treasure each chapter and almost do not want to read any further as I would rather the story never end. It is so beautifully written – thank you for a special gift!

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