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| Family get-together. |
-Brian Mendonca
Since we were in Goa this Christmas, Queenie and myself decided to host a Christmas get-together for the family on 26th. Surprisingly all agreed. Opting for lunch, kept the logistics in mind as our house help could do the dishes.
As I stepped out of the house in the morning, I beheld our friendly store Farmers' Choice firmly shut. Now where do we pick up the olive oil to make the pulao? We noticed a big can of olive oil sitting in the house, but our hopes were dashed when we discovered it was, after all, empty.
A trot into Panjim also saw the store of St. Paul's publication closed. I really needed the Bible diaries for the new year to gift our dear aunty Branca. The fact that aunty, the eldest living member of our family, came was a bit of a miracle. The day before I tried calling her. There was no response. On 26th morning I called several times, same result. I felt the ground slipping. She was at a late-night party she told us later.
After picking up a black jeans from a store in Panjim, to go with my red kurti I paused to pick up the beers before I hit home. We also thought of picking up channa masala to buttress our table for those who would like to eat veg. When the food was served the dish was totally forgotten.
I stuffed the beers - they fell on their side, as I negotiated a curve - in the lift and pressed our lift floor. Dwayne collected the stock - as he usually does so helpfully when I return from work. Without batting an eyelid I made tracks for Thivim station where Melanie and Balwinder were due to arrive from Bombay. I reached just as the Jan Shatabdi did around 2 p.m. They had also brought along a dish specially prepared in Bombay and Mangalorean fugias which have become a must whether we host in Kharghar or here.
I called Aunty Branca from the station. She said her brother was with her in Gaunsavaddo, Mapusa. I requested Mario - for that was his name - to drop aunty to our place in Porvorim, and join the party himself, which he did. I later told him he was at aunty Branca's place for a purpose.
As we headed home we called my brother Kevin to leave to come. It was a joy to see their sons Nigel and Russell who are down from Bangalore. The house was humming with cheer as the spirits flowed and everyone got to getting to know each other.
I glanced at my phone and spied a message from Vicku saying that an unexpected visitor had popped in and since it was already past lunch time, he was calling it off. I promptly called him and said there was no such thing as lunch time, since it is Christmas time. He came in later with his face beaming.
After the repast was over we could not find the Christmas pudding. Anxious moments ticked by, with me even imploring the angels on high reproaching them for this to come to pass. The cream for the pudding had already been made and it was sitting on the burner like a bride waiting for the bridegroom.
As it happens, the pudding was tucked away with the kitchenware in a non-descript bag while clearing the table. We hastily restored its dignity and Kevin lit the traditional flame on the pudding after drenching it in brandy.
A music session was on the cards after the hearty meal but there were other commitments calling. Perhaps next time we can keep the keyboard and guitar unfurled and ready to play in the hall itself, whenever the guests want to. This time, tuning in to the times, we played recorded Christmas instrumental classics from the Victorian period through Wifi speaker to mark the occasion.
As each family left they took a portion of some of the dishes they liked. The corridor resounded with gaiety with Ayaan and Armaan - kids down the corridor - skipping in to inspect what was happening.
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Updated 27/12/24.
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