Category: Daft Blogs of an Indian

Sitting on the flight back to home is usually about reflections, but I am not going to bore myself with them save for completeness.

The VW was fun and  after realising in the morning it was all true, I had planned to go and do the Heritage Walk going into the old city. Frankly could not get up, and had to say the farewells to My Sasu cum Doctor, who was heading for Varodara, with Dipakbhai. Meena’s mum is past eighty, still goes for a walk every day, is a positive person, and lives in Dehradhun. She is coming over in late summer, and there is a Nathwani family gathering in Spain, when the brothers and sisters ( and Jam–ieees, not Jamies  and some of the children will meet). We are going there.

Dipakbhai who lives in Varodara, still looks young, but his eyesight is noticeably worse, and we had to get look after him on occasions at the Wedding. However he is walking on air, as he had just become a granddad.

Rashmi (Meena’s eldest sister) and Arunbhai from Toronto are doing a little tour of GJ. She was lucky enough to say a few words with NaMo and The Ambanis whilst they were having a meal. Arunbhai, is high on the negativity scale with India, and his own mortality, being 69. I am used to that, but he did spring a surprise during the fourth FERA of the wedding…by quietly asking me whether the air was dusty!

No journey to India is complete without going to a temple or two.

So in the afternoon we went to a mock up version of the original Vishnu Devi temple, where you had to work through tunnels etc to reach the top and do darshan. I am sure you know that Vishnu Devi may also be called Laxmi! and at the top the priest gives you a coin! which could be variously used for Chopdapujan. The  bending in the tunnel is a metaphor for namrata or humility.

From there on, towards Gandhinagar, capital of Gujarat, past the CMs house , to Akshardham. Did you know that around 200 people got killed here in 2002 during the time of the Godhra riots ( Muslim v Hindu) where there are suggestions of complicity of NaMo. This is one issue that could lead to NaMo losing the PM race, although his growth and success of Gujarat State as the most successful one may come to his rescue. As I said most people vote with their pockets.  And to be fair, I liked his statement when he said that he is spiritual but not religious. And he does fast twice a year, and during Navratri, for 9 days with just water. The chap is focussed strategist, orator, workaholic, networked, and IT savvy! And he used to sell tea during his childhood at the train-stations.

The Swaminarayan Temple is a great place, lovely architecture, well organised, peaceful, and if hungry try their restaurants. Meena had sandwich and chips and Kavita a thali ( who is more Guju?). And I picked of both and had the local refreshing Nim Booz drink thinking about our Nimesh.

There was a street debate re a car accident in Gujrati, and it was ever so civil with so many onlookers, and I found my driver there.

On to Sabarmati, Gandhiji Ashram, by the river. Been here before, and it’s always moving if you care to go though reading his statements through his struggles.

No trip with women in India ends without a further bit of denial shopping…Meena a shawl. One more attempt at the Heritage walk, and could not get a guide. Best to do in the morning for 7 am.

There was the usual family debate re food, and Kavita’s pasta deficiency. We eventually ate at Swati off CG Road, speciality called Pannki. Went to a Swati in Mumbai  with Pankaj a few years ago and highly recommended.

Got to the airport well in time at 2 am but there is a design flaw. They have more farewellers, than the people flying out, so it is tough getting in through the doors. The bloated bureaucracy appears to have reduced. Bought a book for Mango, a yoga manual, a tiny BG, and a RamLeela movies CD….I was assured in Gujrati…..original eh!…let’s see.

In the flight, need sleep and Meena and myself cackled at an Indian man with a sleeping ring who had it on before flight, on flight, and on transfer at Dubai.
True to being Indian, innovate, over-do, miss the point, and who cares!

Namaste.

By now my mastery of the tying of the Nari, and using these clothes has become a norm. So much freedom down below, and modern day pyjama have a jip, and a tich button at the bottom of the leggings, like Nike.

However, to much disappointment, the ladies decided to skip, the first bit of the mandvo, and go shopping. Have I missed a point here? No problem, back in jeans and an easy Kurta top, we went looking for bits and bobs.

My Sasu, apart from being a yoga doctor, discussed some economics and inflation in the taxi, and the merits of purchasing madaf, in Dehradhun for 40 rupees each and Ahmedavad, being much cheaper. So we had 5 for 100 rupees.

This reminds me of a tale the late TBSodha used to tell me about a Vanio who in his quest to find the cheapest madaf was eventually asked to hire a monkey for 50 rupees, so that he could have as many as possible. Sadly when the monkey went up a tree and threw the first one down, it fell on his head and he died!

One thing is for sure clothes are superb and of good value in Ahmedavad, so if you come over keep space in your bags.

At pm, I changed back into my comfort KPJ (KurtaPyjamas) and off we went to the Barat. Ever met that person who you meet in your life who tries too much, but gets it wrong? I had that Mr Bean moment, as most of the men were suited western style, and I looked like a pure Desi!

We had the pagdi on, and walked and danced (not me, all the others), until we were met by the receiving party. Yesterday, I made a mistake, the Khandwalas (the brides family) are Vaisnav Vanias, and are seriously loaded. It was set in a massive farm house, and the wedding was in a small amphitheater type of construction so that all could see. With canapés, and live musicians what could be better, and of course outdoor in the cool pm breeze.

Then of courses the guests and tight security, In comes Asha Bhosle, Mukesh Ambani, Chief of police, Neeta Ambani, and the glitterati, and glitter of the jewellery was almost wrecking my fine photography. However, I will send you some of them.

After the wedding we went for the reception, and that’s when I regretted my KPJs the most, except one or two others who were dressed like me, including the waiters, and NaMo. No kidding he was there, the PM in waiting, and I will sent you his pictures to show his KPJs,

The food was exquisite, with cuisine from all over, and a huge garden party, with more live musicians playing in the background. Met some lovely people, and this place is happening. Somebody told me that the country will always go forward from now on, his expression was ‘ this train cannot stop’. I could add, that it is also very long, and will trample many on the way. Please say a prayer for the have nots.

As usual, to make you all jealous, I had  veggie tom-yum soup, Burmese khorsuey, Rotlo, auroh, dahi, katlu, some varieties of kulfi.Thank God I did not have lunch, and Meena and Kavita were discerning enough to guide through the appropriate gastronomic delights.

I often wonder that the level of gas produced by these foods could cause a huge explosion, and should be put on the UN Risk Register of environmental risks. Also, did you know that the highest amount of Methane is produced by the cows in India?
This, and the significant human propellant, are compelling reasons to stay put in the west.

One thing is for sure, from taxi drivers, the learned people I met at the weddings and elsewhere, the papers, and polls, NaMo, is likely to be the next PM, and the Indian rupee will strengthen by a conservative 5-10 per cent, and so will the stock market, after May. I hereby put a disclaimer, that this is my personal opinion, and you need to seek your own advice, save that you may want to pop over.

Back, at the Hotul, this was the climax of our trip. But there is one more day, and so tomorrow, I am planning do do the Heritage Walk, and go  to Akshardham by Sabarmati where my hero MKG used to live. If you ever get the chance read his book ‘ My experiments with truth’. If it does not change one thing in your life or habits, my name is not Nitin,

So this morning PN had chartered two flights of Jet Airways to fly guests and relatives from Mumbai to Ahmedabad. The process was like clockwork with no checking in, luggage taken etc. On the flight were the Kotak family, who own the Kotak Bank. PN’s mum is a Kotak.

On arrival after an hour, we were garlanded by the receiving party, and given a personal taxi for the next two or three days. Our complimentary accommodation is at the Marriot, and there was another receiving party, and high tea! Some of the old English methods appear to have stuck in time in India.

Met up with Meena’s sister  Rashmi from Canada, and mum and other sister, Toral from Deradhun. Her cousin,  Dipakbhai had come from Baroda. So it is a larger Nathwani occasion.

Also Babubhai, and family were there, and Jamari’s and children from Leicester.

The evening event was at Gulmohar Greens Golf Club. It was massive with valet parking, Hugh reception, outdoor, any food that you can think of ( all veggie) and we did our usual niceties, and after canapés had Lebanese to realign  our AC (alimentary canal), to some normality. There was enough food to feed a small republic.

So the musician was Sonu Nigam, and there quite a few high society people. As a minion, I did not recognise any of the minsters, but one chap appeared to get all the photographers, acting like paparazzi. It was Mukesh Ambani, who had come in his private jet. He had a lot of security, and came in like a film star, everybody including official photographers ignoring the bride and bridegroom and rushing to take his picture. I managed several shots of his back, and had kept a second eye for any loose change that may have fallen of his pockets, but with no success. After all he is worth about USD 50 Billion!

On a second attempt I did manage to capture him, he seemed to be talking to some ministers, probably agreeing to a deal or two. Oh , Pankaj stays and plays at Gulmohar Club. MA, then was whisked away and flew in his private jet for a sleep in his Billion dollar home in Mumbai. After the Sono Nigam show, and two pans, we reached our whotel, and reflected whether MA suffers from gas. Meena and Kavita think,  I do.

Met up with Meena mum in the morning for breakfast, (thepla, athanu, etc of course) and we discussed the issues re gas. She suffers from a similar problem , though not exactly same, and suggested I try Kapal Bharti yoga, where I need to tighten my stomach and grunt out! 20 times a day. Also helps those with large bellies, or are bellicose.

Oh forgot about he bride, she is a marvadi (Khandwala), as Laxmi Mittall, and her father is the biggest stockbroker/investor in Gujarat. Interesting parallels how the royalty and those with the money keep it within themselves, and exchange a child or two.

Superlatives? Whatever.  Smaller events are more personal.

Notice the lower mandible…

On leaving Lonavala, we realised that we had missed going to Tiger Valley (TV) where the views are spectacular, and it has leopards, but no tigers. There is also another Hill Station near  Lonavala (LV) called Khandala, which is probably the same, as it is still on the western ghats. Fortunately, we saw TV, whilst speeding on the expressway.

Obesity is a burgeoning  problem over here, commensurate with social status, the middle class. The masses (another horrible term used locally for for many ‘common’ men ) are poor, thin and lean. So the Kare resort had some middle class using Ayurveda and massages to lose weight, do yoga, and find the Self. And this is now becoming popular with westerners, looking to sort themselves out. The secret is that if you live like Kisumu Lohana Boarding what do you expect?

I would highly recommend Kare for those seeking the alternative experience, Ayurveda, weight loss, redemption, or have masochistic inclinations. And of course any seeking psychiatric assistance, excepting occasional wallies like ourselves.

Oh , at LV, we met an American Indian Patli, who told us that England has gone to the dogs, as they are allowing in too many Muslims. She happened to be flogging her yoga ‘movie’ for emancipation! She probably does not wear cotton socks, otherwise I might have blessed them.

My take on Hindu thinking is that it is inclusive (aatman is in all), and any exclusivity demonstrated by fanatics ( normally  from the three Abrahamic religions), is unacceptable, and for Hindus it is outrageous. As MKG (Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi) once said to a Christian, I love Jesus, but not all of the Christians that follow him.

The leader of the Aam Aadmi Party (AAM) Arvind Kejrival has resigned after 49 days, on grounds that he could not prosecute alleged corrupt powerful people. The papers summed it as  ‘the Kejri wall has had a Kejri fall’. That’s sad, because the AAM represents the equivalent of the Arab Spring.

Back in Juhu, via Panvel, Navi Mumbai, Mahim, Sion, past Ghatkoper, we landed and the women are rushing to get to the Mendhi afternoon of Dhanraj Nathwani, Meena’s nephew, via her cousin Parimal Nathwani (PN).

A bit about PN. He is on the main Board of India’s largest Company,  Reliance Industries, close confidante of the Ambani family ( one of the worlds richest family), and head of its oil refineries in Gujarat. On the side he also happens to be an MP for Uttarkhand, and has to go to do his Parliamentary work in Delhi with all it’s privileges. As Dhanraj is his only son, this wedding has the who and who of India coming over, not that any of the razzmatazz turns me on. However, I am going to soak it in, so will find out who turns tomorrow, so will report forthwith.

Slight change of subject , the tiki I referred to for Lonavala is called Chikki, not that it’s makes up for the ‘sinking of my lower mandible’. And India does not have 50 States, it’s about 28, overall still bigger than Europe, but less people per square kilometre.

As a reminder of abbreviations which is the norm here , STD, ISD, PCO, NRI, NRO, PIO, TV, LV, AAM, NaMo, MKG, PN, etc etc. This is infectious, and I am calling my journey VW, short for Vacation Wedding.

Tonight we had a  Chinese meal with some friends at the Novotel next door to Sun N Sand in Juhu, and it’s so much better with a grander sea front and ambience, rather Ombience.

Lonavala Hill Station

This is a typical hill station for city dwellers of about 20 million to visit and own nice property in a quieter place with maybe half a million. Lonavala, is famous for its tiki, a rock like ‘sweet’ with glucose, nuts, pistachios, gelled up. I tried it, and my bottom teeth have sunk in!

Sadly the gross differences between the have and have nots are all too obvious, and the politicians are all making their mark in different ways.

Yesterday, two MPs from Andhra ( in Gujrati means blind) State, caused serious inconvenience in parliament . Lagadati Rajagopal, wanted the Bifurcation Bill ( God knows what it means) to be delayed, so he sprayed pepper spray on fellow MPs.
He claimed it was in self defence. Another MP, Modugula Venugopal Reddy, allegedly carried a knife.

Security in parliament has now tightened, and there is even consideration that the Nari or string used to hold up the pyjamas of MPs could be banned, as it could be used to strangle if the debate became too much. Hari Om!

On other important matters Kavita and Meena bought some bindi and bangles!
I had a hair cut, hairs pulled out of ear lobes, shave around the circle ( that’s the bit they call around the ears), a small head massage, and back massage in Salon, for 40 pence, and a 20 percent tip.

We scampered back to hotel as women felt stared at…I didn’t…bald men are history in India.

NaMo (abbreviation for Narendra Modi) is taking the country by storm. Gujarat State is much more wealthier. Amaya Sen ( famous economist, and Nobel Prize Winner) has observed that health care, and education is about 42 out of the 50 Indian States in Gujarat. However, the ‘common-man’ ( such a degrading term used commonly in India) is likely to vote for NaMo, as do most people around the world with their pockets!

At lunch we had the usual stuff, tarka Dahl, Chana, roti, and a ‘ love sign’ meringue as complimentary to remind me of Valentime day…… to us by a Chinese looking lady, so I have respectfully spelt the day as she would say it. Incidentally, she is a fully dressed Indian from Nagaland.  My curiosity was overwhelmed by Meena’s verbosity.

Forgot to say I worked out intermittently in the Hotel Gym, as the thread mill kept stopping due to power supply issues. What to do!

Tomorrow it’s 45 days since I have become a veggie , and it’s hard! I cheated once with some phish. Oh also we are going to the President Hotel in Colaba, Mumbai for start of this High Society wedding….Meena side appears to have all sorts!
No kidding they have chartered  two planes to Ahmedabad, and we are in this Jan on February 15th.

I am shitting bricks as I don’t know what to wear…so I will disappear into a reverie with the hotel background music…’ Band on the Run’.

We went on recommendation to this place for the last three days, and apart from the room like Kedowa, with a doll bath, and cubatt, the place has been a boot camp.

All mild food, wake up 6am with chamomile tea, 7-9 am, astanga yoga, massages, meditation etc. If I turn up at home. As a guruji please phorgive me! There were odd Americans, some Australians, students, etc. Hardest part, no tea, coffee, exercise, exercise, and master like Chandio!

Master ‘Chandulal’ almost kicked me and slapped Meena when we could not do the squats. The yoga lady instructor is almost worth coming to visit this place…anybody have bio data for a 26 plus year male of konkny, Brahmin background?

We had great views, and feel healthy and rested now, and did headstand today, and all feel supple. Ayur, for those who don’t know, refers to balance of mind, body and soul, using the vedas, to discover the Self. Not sure whether I did, but discovered how to operate google better!

So today we are in Lonavala, a hill station about a couple of hours from Mumbai, staying at Fariyas. Good hotel, owned by Ismailis, as I saw a picture of the Aga Khan, reminded of my stay with this lovely community at their hostel in Kisumu.
On the we had the usual Namkeen dhal, nuts, and Meena resolved her coffee deficiency with copious amounts of Nescafé.

A Brief Wedding Video: Click Here

They say intelligence is about reasoning skills, logic, and rationale. And intuition precedes it….and this is a prerequisite in Mumbai. You definitely need to plan,  and leave lots of gaps, and ready to think on your feet. In simple terms keep your wits about. The place is crazy if you are outdoors.

My problem is  when I start soaking the sun the IQ bit starts evaporating. The first mistake is not to drink a lots of fluids,  and trying to do too much.

So  the last thing I yesterday was go to a chemist shop, and purchased a strip of Pen V ( caution only buy if you are not allergic) and paracetamol. It seems the chemist could have easily sold blankets, as they are emporia! Serving is like having a pint, and chap before me was arguing that he was given the wrong stuff for his masters butt. I agreed , intervened, but he ignored me. I think the chap eventually got what he wanted…if it was a mistake it would probably be still OK as his master would have very loose motion as the side effect.

Kavita, naturally, has the same predisposition, and gave me company to control her fever, and runny nose. I think the latter was probably the Mumbai pollution of the traffic and messiness. In the morning I went along to book the taxi, and paid 800 rupees to get there. Learnt later of Meeru Taxies (44224422) , who charged R 375 to come back at night. This company is large and has hundreds in the main metros.
The latter is useful for single way journeys but you need to book. Getting ripped off is normal, and you need to regard it as ignorance and move on.

Vishals wedding location was an edge of town farm house, and was pleasingly better than my wildest expectations. He was on a white horse, there was a band Vaja, barat  ka dance, women and men having a sing song, well decorated Mandap, lots of guests and relatives. Met us with Sejal, Daksha and Sudha, and discovered that they had on and offs with each other during their time together.

The wedding was very personal and the food was amazing, variety, and classy. I will attach some clips.

Some of the men then lay on the godras and had a siesta, whilst we took a tuk tuk to Sejal’s hotel. The trip was awful, and that is one reason I would not advise anybody to move to Mumbai. You would do a favour to yourself and to them as about 10000 plus move to the city every day!

Evening reception was again classy, starting with canapés, drinks, a live band, carpeted all over, sumptuous buffet (including kitchi, rotla, auro, and lots of suites etc) . Realised then that they also use wedding planners, and it was just a great entertaining evening outdoors. I am just happy that the Karias are settled, and Mummy would be smiling wherever she is!

Jitubhai other brother, Dilip, from Rajkot did not attend although his who is partially deaf and daughter, Phalu, a lovely lovely 20 something, turned up. I found out that through an well educated distant relative that their circumstances are quite bad, because Dilip is an alcoholic, and keeps bad company. So Phalu studies, and works to support her parents. I left a little bit for her mother.

We were back in Juhu by 11, and the wrap up discussion was about paracetamol etc. I did by usual blast, and Kavita got a real bed instead of the slab!

Made it….rush to the laughing club…go to back of hotel, and walk along beach by the Marriott, and you see this regular group at 7 am. Indian exercises are different, and all to do with joints, and loosening them , and flexibility with little cardio.
So we saw only a few joggers amidst a sea of early morning walkers on the beach.
Beach not clean, champals a must!

I got a further insight into Eastern obesity, it appears mostly around the size of the tumbho , and consistent with the storage requirements of the high carb, and frequency  of food.

It’s no use talking about a problem without a solution for reducing the rotund tummy and one of them is this. I think it is called anulom vilom, wherein ( such an Indian word) you breathe in quick, and blow out fast.  Do that at least 20 times daily and see the result. You might even discover your inner Self! This treatment works after regular effort, and only for those with the  predisposition. A tip, grunt hard on exhaling! All this inner wisdom comes from the laughing club.

Alternatively, what goes in does not necessarily come out…unless you exercise.

Sadly we missed some of the laughing, but managed to do eye-ball exercises and one of the perennial favourites where you clasp your hand , stretch it upwards and say tick!

At breakfast after the usual dose of papaya with lime, porridge, and (with secrecy and denial) a masala dhoso, English tea, we waited for the deli worrys (I have deli bratly misspelt with the intended pun) at reception of the adjusted shopping.

Brevity is not a trait everybody has, and Meena sometimes lacks it except when she is angry. For example it’s pointless asking a rikshawala to take you to a place, and then telling him that we may go there and there. Man she can talk and stretch a conversation.  Kavita usually remonstrates  with ”Mum, why are you telling a story?”

By the way verbosity is the opposite of brevity which Meena has in abundance. It helps if you are into trivia and have all the time in the world, and phone companies love such people.  Thirty years has taught me certain no go areas so I have developed selective hearing to a fine art. Family bollocking for Meena can only emanate via the children.

Prakashbhai ( remember the tailor with two wives?) persisted re his blouses Silai, and turned up and Madam agreed to give him some work. Bitcharo does not wear shoes, sandals, or slippers, for a year or so, but carries a great smile accentuated by an even larger Rajput mootch. I remembered that it is quite in order for them to have a wife or two!

So we went to pick the shopping from all the shops ( Labas in Santa Cruz, Options in Juhu, Kala Niketan in Santa Cruz, Suruchi in Juhu, Bawree in Gorakphur. We then rushed through the congestion to get to Sion, past Mahim, Bandra and Dharavi the famous slum,  late again to Manisha the blouse designer.

She gave me a telling off for being late, which I had nothing to do with. We followed her into her tiny garage cum showroom and Meena and Kavita immersed into a deep discussion about the styles, and I sat mutely. Frankly, I could have easily been one of the many up collared canine variety having a siesta on the pavement!

Kavita wanted to eat, and the two of us went with the driver to Peninsula in Sion Circle ( they call roundabouts circle) an apparently fast food place which markets a large menu, but a limited available choice when inside. I had a club sandwich and Kavita had a MD (henceforth I will abbreviate more…this one is Masala Dosa).
On finishing, I somehow could not contain my satisfied satiety, and promptly released a large burp in the restaurant, to which none of the waiters or patrons flinched. It’s a free country.

So tonight is an early night as it’s Vishal’ s wedding, and I still do not know what to wear. But there are more important things to reflect about like the blast from the pasts, and the thought of slumber…..lovely….no more shopping…

Meena also told me not to call anybody Bhaiya, which means brother.  She thinks it’s a colloquial reference to being gay…..somebody please help…otherwise my reputation is permanently wrecked in Mumbai.

Fully recovered from jet lag, but we missed the laughing club again!

We were out relatively early, dropped our washing to a local dry cleaner, and gave some of Kavitas clothes for repair.

Now the sun is soaking in, and breakfast was poi poi with a bit of lemon…and I even indulged in a bit of chana bhatura and seero whilst Kavita went across to the gym. Meena was still in shopping mood so the rupees are evaporating like water!

Seems the locals are convinced that Narendra Modi is likely to be the next PM, long live Raghuvasis and looies! Will definitely pick up his book in Ahmedabad as per Pankaj’s suggestion.

I bought some trendy Kurta shirts from Options, and Meena and Kavita made their stay at Kala Niketan and Paneri worth it for them…I suppose they can now attend every wedding! The Times of India had a lovely article of an 8 member family living in a 200 square foot flat, and the industrious teenagers of the family doing well in exams by sitting under street lights to revise and complete homework.

Today’s thali meal at Laxmi in Andheri cost us 200 rupees each with four shaks, khadi, bhat, khichdi, dar, and hot thin rotli served while you eat, plus the usual bhajia (patidar), and methai! Don’t worry I did not treat my alimentary canal to the lot, otherwise it would be as congested as the Mumbai traffic!

Forgive me for using so many exclamation marks….India has a habit of eliciting them without much effort! See what I mean?

The afternoon was a rush as we had a taxi driver called Laxman Patel taking us to Kandiwelli West, Charkop, Sector 5, not far from Borivelli. He said he knew how to get there from Juhu, and got lost, and so true to our origins arrived late at the Sangeet for Vishal. The venue was a small, Africa style, hall, with both families and friends have a sing song, and we met up with The Londoners..Sudha, Sejal and Daksha. In one way we stood out like like NRI freshies, as the behavioural tendencies are so different. Sudha, as usual accentuated her behaviour. However, the common Lohana nuances were self evident, as Kavita later remarked ‘ they are so natural’.

There was a sing-song, with small family performances, and a lot of fun, dance and garba ending with an adapted version of ‘ we will, we will rock you!
I came satisfied that the family is well established, that Deepali and Parag are happily married, Vishal in his element, and Jitubhai and Daxabhabhi content, and the last boy Sundip running jitubhai’s business. Daxabhahi’s side has a lot of well educated kids doing journalism, media, accountancy, etc. And they are all doing well.

After a bite to eat the Pau bhaji (again), we made our way back with Laxman patel late again. It takes an hour at least from Kandiwelli! and we raced though mahim, Andheri, and the taxi driver tried to convince me that traffic lights do not apply after 11pm. I had a prolonged banter trying to keep him awake by saying that originally he was a singo, like we were and he not a patlo. And that during the partition, we escaped as did all the Gujrati’s who do not like to fight.

Bed at 1am.