Monday, January 24, 2011

283. YOUR DAUGHTER’S IN-LAWS NEVER LEAVE EMPTY-HANDED


Sweet honks the horn and her maternal grandfather’s guard opens the gate. She pulls the car into the drive and stops behind a BMW sports car and a Mercedes SUV. Earlier today Dad told me that Vasant Vihar, the neighborhood that Younger Bhabhi’s family lives in, is upscale, safe and home to many of the diplomatic missions to India. It is also an area where Indians won’t rent to Indians, because they want foreign money. So this should indicate how wealthy Younger Bhabhi’s father must be.

We walk inside and I have to catch my breath. This is one of the MOST stunning homes I have EVER stepped foot in – from London, Singapore, the US or India. It belongs in a coffee table photo book. From the outside it was far more visually stimulating than most flat-roofed, modern homes that speckle the Delhi landscape. The materials were a finer concrete, metal and wood that resulted in a contemporary design.

But on the inside it is a wonder of white marble, uniform columns, huge windows and 12’ ceilings. Two of Younger Bhabhi’s sister-in-laws greet me and I have to do a double take. They are wearing shiny leggings and tunic tops, stilettos and enormous diamond studded bangles. They both tote two bangles on the right wrist and I have no idea how many karats they are sporting, other than a shitload. “Would you like a tour? We understand you’re an architect,” they say. I accept the offer but don’t correct them on my profession. Mostly because I really don’t know what I do for a job anyway.


They guide me into the kitchen and I am awestruck. It is a square space filled with shiny stainless steel appliances, espresso cabinets and white floors, walls and countertops. In the center of the room, an enormous kitchen island lounges in a warm and welcoming fashion. Bright and massive it feels like something you find in Sausalito, not southwest Delhi.

Preparing Indian food can be messy because our base of cooking brown includes ginger and onions in a host of colored spices – paprika, cumin, coriander, peppercorn and of course the-stains-everything-yellow-turmeric. My kitchen backsplash has a constant filmy, greasy yellow residue. However, back in the homeland, in this kitchen that is feeding a large joint family, I am truly impressed to find no trace of spice or dust. I can understand Younger Bhabhi just a little better now. She married out this family and down into ours, while her sister-in-laws married up. I still think she was in the wrong for dumping garbage on Elder Bhabhi’s head.

The sister-in-laws walk me through the rooms of the house. The bedrooms (of which there are five on this floor) are huge, with western style loos with double sinks, marble countertops, huge tubs. This flat makes everything I have seen in New York seem like the red-headed stepchild. Unsurprisingly the final stop on the tour is the master bedroom (about the size of my apartment) where Younger Bhabhi’s father is sitting on his bed, his turban to the side, laughing with his sons, son-in-law, daughter, grandchildren and Dad.

Her dad, who has to be Dad’s age if not older, is still a strikingly good looking man. To which I have say, Punjabi men are very attractive, especially the Sikhs. Their handsomeness has to work double time to overcome being buried under a long beard and moustache. Thus making their features extra sharp and refined. I sit down next to Dad and Younger Bhabhi’s father summons of his grandchildren to bring two parcels sitting on the other side of the bed. The little kid does as he’s told. Younger Bhabhi’s father gets up gives one parcel to Dad and the other to me. 

We open them. Dad receives a cream colored woolen shawl and I get a really nice bolt of a silk blend fabric to have a Punjabi tunic and pant set made.  We are given these items because whenever your daughter’s in-laws visit, they cannot leave empty handed. This includes the cousin through marriage who lives in New York and who you are meeting for the first time.

5 comments:

Sunny said...

Some of the houses in Delhi are so stunning!

Went to the new year party at one of the farm houses in Delhi and it is the best party we have ever been to, in US, India, UK or anywhere and we have been to a lot of parties.

And then went to the house of a famous "old money" family; it was stunning. There were two kitchens, one where the real cooking happened by the resident chef, and other one was all gleaming and it was a kitchen just in case on of the family member wanted to make some tea or something. Why would they? They can just call the domestic help and have them make tea for them. No wonder it didn't have any oily film - it is just for show.

I am embarrassed to admit that I felt "out classed" in that house and that never happens to me!

Another Kiran In NYC said...

Hahaha Sunny above said it for me. Two and three layers deep kitchens are common in the finer/newer homes. The first is the show kitchen.. for when the host or hostess cooks for friends to show off culinary skills learned at the Blue Elephant Cooking school during the annual Christmas vacation in Phuket. Needless to say, only a tiny bit of stir frying is done here. The kitchen beyond is the saalan/curry/subji/ real cooking kitchen for the family manned only by the help. The third kitchen is the desi style kitchen where the dishes are washed and the help eat and cook for themselves. In this kitchen, I have seen wood and coal fired mud stoves and limoges porcelain plates being washed in a corner equipped with a floor drain and a faucet placed at squatting level. Sometimes I regretted seeing the the second and third kitchens. Not a pretty sight always.

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Sunny -

I don't think you shd be embarrassed by your out-classed comment. I sometimes feel the same way. India has really, really changed, yet stayed the same - it is a TRULY fascinating place - and LOL - agreed why would they have to raise a finger, all is done for them.

I rode in my first Mercedes in India! Ha! :)

xo,
Desi Girl

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Sunny -

P.S. I think India's rise is pretty great - another reminder that life is changing and you have to stay alert to stay alive!

xo,
Desi Girl

101 Bad Desi Dates said...

Dear Another Kiran in NYC -

Ugh, I totally understand what you are saying when you wish you could unsee how some people exist. It sure does make me thankful for the little part of earth God/Durga gave me!

It wasn't until I was 18 did I really appreciate poverty and how good my life was in Minnesota.

I am thankful that my parents survived Mori Gate, that it built their character and they raised me to be more or less "with it"!

xo,
Desi Girl